I dip my hand in Diet Coke® and all my thoughts are turned to smoke. The bench gets damp as the excess spills over, but my lap is thankfully spared the liquid. Branly is sitting right over there and he sees me do it.
"It's not time, voder, it's not time," he says. He is genuinely concerned and this surprises me. When surprised, I ofttimes react inappropritely, and this occasion proved to be oft.
"It's time when I say, voder," I reply. I immediately regret it, but there's no going back. No pulling the sound back out of the air. No way to unchange his brain from the reconfiguration it underwent as result of that sound. No way to stop him from leaving. No way to pull my hand out of the Diet Coke®
Branly gets up and walks out. He's sharked, and only time will knock that down. Professor Gaine continues the experiment, but now half my thoughts are taken up by regret.
I look around to distract myself. The equipment is quiet, not like you see in films. The noisiest thing is a quiet fan inside the EEG. A quiet little hum, just one note.
"What day is it?" the professor asks. I look down at my wrist before I remember I'd taken my watch off. I have to think.
"The 6th?" I half-ask, half-reply. The professor says nothing but writes down something. I continue to look at my wrist and my hand. The green has already started to form.
"What day is it?" the professor asks again.
"I just said it, voder," I answer. The regret is still heavy so I don't follow up with anything more. My brain clamors for sarcasm, but I clamp it down. The professor says something and writes down nothing.
"What?" I say. But the room is already splintering, and the sounds are already swirling together. I blink. It's hard to see. My hand in the Diet Coke® is cold and green, and I forget how to talk.
Branly comes back into the room and I watch him sit down. He sits awkwardly, not looking at where the chair is. Somehow he knows. The chair spins to meet him. It spins by itself.
My hand isn't cold any more. It's not green, and it's not in the Diet Coke®. I don't remember pulling it out. I look at Branly, and he's getting the equipment ready, attaching EEG leads to my head. Something's not right, but I can't puzzle it out. Was there regret? The professor says nothing, writes nothing.
I dip my hand in Diet Coke® and all my thoughts are turned to smoke.