It doesn't matter but matter suggests that...

It was the 1926th time the old man had tried this calculation in anticipation for a big astrophysics breakthrough. His was a life of constant trial and failure but never did he at anyone point yield to the fate of being destructed, he too like old men had lived his life like the albatross, full of wondering and wandering, and he hated sleep. His inspiration was driven by a charming young man, Nixon, a teenager physics genius full of vigor to learn to unlearn. Professor SamuelBest Sentt lay down his head on the edge of his office desk and there drawn into a lifeless slumber floated without wings being trapped in an aura of kaleidoscopic dreams that later became an illusion.

In his ruins of the past and the memories of old, he dreamt always of his wife and daughter trapped in an inferno, a timeless death that still echoed whenever he lay his head down.

“Dad, why took you so long? Eleanor Sentt cried amidst the blazing tongues of fire, she vigorously beat her arms on her mum’s chest in anticipation to accrue a CPR. In that silence of watching helplessly as a shattered roof of half a tone came down on them killing both mother and child, it was an inflammatory dream…

The glints of light that poured in through the thin window vanes revealed a huge scar on his left eye that was an antique from the fire that killed his family.

“Good morning professor.” Nixon called out as he came running into Sentt’s office. He was a young man whose mind constantly boiled with mathematical equations and writing fiction stories, the latter as a hobby. He rested a bunch of brown papers that appeared to be worn out with scribbles of numbers and constants. 

In the stillness of the morning the boy dipped his fingers in the curtains pulling them apart revealing square portrait in the middle of the room, hanging from a thread that pursed in from the ceiling, an old picture of Kate and Eleanor Sentt smiled with fading lines of pain between their faces.

On his mahogany table lay a burnt toast half bitten and a cold coke half drunk and each day his heart pondered about the question only left to beat for this scientific question whether black holes are made of matter or antimatter?

“It was a rough night wasn’t it?” Nixon asked.

“ All night I tried to figure out why neutrinos behave the way they do in antimatter.”

“And if they have no capacity to lose their energy, that means their velocity and momentum will have to step up.”

“Therefore giving rise to an annihilation.”

“And you know where this will end, we have travelled here before only today it was another road to failure.”Nixon grimed. 

“But on the other hand we should not forget the role of gravity,” the old man chewed the rubber of the pencil he had.

“But if we have the right constant not even dwarf stars will diverge here,” in his blue young eyes hope flourished.

 Still in the candid puzzle of confusion they stood with endless imaginations to the unanswered question, hoping that one day they would solve it and maybe get a Nobel Prize or two.

“How far with the writing boy?” the old man asked am confident you will win that contest.

“This is my last story in submission.”

“Don’t say that, you can’t give up now its embedded in your DNA, you can’t outrun fate

“When I read the writings of old, I feel unworthy.”Nixon picked his pen and paper.

“Never compare yourself to anyone son, you only live once and its not wise to wish for another personality, everyone has his own ghosts to fight in the night.” 

“This writing contest isnot treating me any good.”

“That’s what the world has to offer, everyday, everytime all we have to do is beat the odds, success is never guaranteed but it is ever within our reach if we look close enough.”

The old man sipped on his coke, looked by the window overseeing the gulf of Mexico. Sentt in soft words said “In all my years of study and throughout history life is an endless sea bound by waves, it’s the only way to travel there is, so it depends on the way you surf over them for their lies two options to be swallowed or to scale to utmost heights, you choose.” 

Nixon picked up the shattered papers that sat by the dusty table overlaid with a royal blue cloth, a heritage from the 19th century Jewish culture and in his heavy and partly light heart imbued with confusion he choose to continue writing.

“Remember the power to will is the door to imagination, just let there be.” the old man turned and walked across the room.

The whole day felt like all the past days they had known, to them had been bestowed the gift of trial that it became to them a song and a desire that outshined their zeal to give up but only hoped for a better tomorrow.

 “I will play now and you will write,” said Sentt as he sat down on his heirloom grand piano playing the opening notes of the infamous moonlight sonata as he directly glanced on the broad Stephen Hawking portrait hanging in the corner beside him.Nixon was already seated down the typewriter bleeding out his last story.

It is not usual to dedicate a short story but Nixon began with the words.

To SamuelBest Sentt.

He was an old man who slowly succumbed to the crushing pressure and snares of old age and with a degenerating count of time, all hope rested on his great wit to solve a mathematical equation for the love of science, figuring out why some black holes are made out of antimatter and others of matter.His was a life of putting his head below the giloueteen and hoping to survive by a bet that the rusty blade will not come down in time.In all his years, he carried with him a motto like how a seal carries it's whiskers.It stated in plain words, 'all we do we do for science and then science takes care of us.'Beyond a full armor of hardwork his demeanor was a sarcastic one filled with golden smiles that penetrated through the flawed cheek bone muscles.One look at him revealed unseen scars of silent struggles and no matter how much hard pressed he seemed, there was a remnant of a joke left to cheer up the day.He once said "Did you know that when you get the inverse proportion of a neutrino it's value matches with it's electron constant combined together with its prevalent charge." and however much the day became hard, you could find a word or two to hope.

In my saddest moment he always carried with him a bag of philosophy and mind intriguing words like below.

"One day all of us that are friends will be lost from each other, we will miss our conversations, laughter, grief of everything and nothing.Days will pss by, then weeks, months and years until this voice becomes rare.

One day your children will ask you.

"Who are these people we see in the pictures?" 

When we are smiling with invisible tears because a heart is touched with a strong word and you will say to them.

"It was with them that I had the best days of my life."

In the taming of the soothing music, Nickson typed his last words at the stopping of the music he had already finished his intended word count.

Sentt stood up from his piano stool cracking almost every bone under his flesh, he moved towards the boy.

"I think today was awesome, we should resume tomorrow."Sentt said.

"If we solve this problem, I am the one carrying your bag as we go to receive the Nobel.Nixon joked as he arranged his papers to send them at once to the literary Contest address hoping for a winning side this last time.

Pofessor Sentt stretched out his arm wrapping it around Nixon's shoulders as they walked out of the office he stopped and said.

"Did you know that man, the great Stephen Hawking never won a nobel."

"But he appeared on the big bang theory."

" It's so bad we can't fully predict the future but if we did, the world would be more less a cockpit than a driver's seat.Everyone would fly at their pace and purpose.Goodnight son."

"Goodnight Professor."

The developing erosions of wrinkle in the old man's hands met with the smooth rubble of Nixon's and although separated by a generational gap, both had made up minds dedicating their time and wit to a better future of cosmology breakthroughs.It was the illusion of hope that defined their abilities and kept them seeing a way amidst deep darkness and the creeping mist of the night.

The day dawned as the proud sun rays streched towards Professor Sentt office that doubled as a bedroom ever since the inferno happened, he had sold his home escaping the constant reminders of a fate he couldn't stop.The velvet bedcover hanged across his body half sipping to the floor, still in his couch that resembled those from the Wadson Manor antique room, he dreamt.

This time it was Einstein walking on the moon, defying a couple of gravity laws and beside him stood Sentt who at last in his years of challenges had found a colleague with whom they could throw stones in the void and hope for supernovas.

Eisnten overlooked the barren landscape, touching the edge of his moustache he continued to count the stars and every comet that passed.Sentt taped his shoulder from behind.

"56 comets so far and 2299 stars, still counting."Einstein gasped on turning to face Sentt."What brings you here friend, you are too early for the Nobel!.

"Wait what? Sentt asked.

"How far with the black hole paradox?"

"It seems my imagination is trapped in a chaste of past moments."Sentt spoke nervously.

Einstein looked at the passsing comet and smiled.

"Sometimes we cannot fathom the whole totality of life but only collect from it's glimpses and conjure a future. Imagination only awakens that which is behind a closed door, there could be monsters or a sprouting rose."

He continued, " You see Charlie Chaplain the great never spoke many words but many would understand him.It just takes getting a moment and shaping it into what dots you draw in your head, those dots will become a line and that line will grow into a way, perhaps a compass,look closer."

"So all said and done,Sentt asked, "whats the precise antimatter approach to blackholes?

"In that matter, matter suggest that...

"Professor."Nixon called out loud as he approached the couch that early morning.

"Wake up professor," he tipped the end of his blanket off his chest.

"I had one last dream for Gods sake and you woke me up." Sentt banged the top of the couch as he sat down.

"Who was it?, am sorry if I ruined an experiment."Nick was curious but laughing deep in his heart, it had been long ever since Sentt reacted this way he had missed it for ages.

"Einstein was a step away from answering my black hole paradox, i need some water."

'Did he send my regards, did you tell him am a big fan." the boy jabbled with words on his way to a mini fridge.

"He talked about a connecting dots, let's get to the board."

"But that's what we have been doing each day." Nixon cried out.

"I now know that the 1983 Bond paper might help, bring the 1985 Davis paper as well."Professor Sentt drank a mouthful of the water and began his usually work of getting constants and calculus equations on the board, they took two full hours that day of brainstorming.

"Success is always near but sometimes our sight is flawed by the constant reminders of failure that we live by."Sentt made his concluding remarks on the board.

"Do we have it?" Nixon asked.

"I think we have it, yes we do have the equation." The old man shouted as if it was the last trump sounding for battle.

"I will get your wine."Nixon rushed to the closet beneath Professor's desk.

In his little happy face and imaginations of him being named as the youngest Nobel archiever, he heard something fall, the sound that appeared to come from the workstation where he had left Professor.

"Professor, is that you?" Nixon asked.

In a minute of counting with no answer, he rushed as far as his boy steps could carry him only to find what his eyes couldn't behold and what his mind couldn't contain.

"Professorrrr."he shouted."Professor wake up."

To the enchanted floor overlaid with a blue carpet, Sentt lay with blood gushing from his oropharyngeal orifices and in his last words as he looked in Nixon's eyes who bore his head in his little hands, the old man said.

"It's an endless world of wander, we have won in this and you will have to publish that paper.

I never wanted to burden you, but a brain tumor was behind those headaches that came between our quality time. Goodbye my friend."