Tanaka, the essence of dreams

When I arrived at the house, the professor was not there any more. I must acknowledge that I was not very quiet by searching through the house. It is idiotic but I imagined somebody or something emerging from a dark nook. Nothing, just my imagination.

All seemed to be forsaken suddenly. The only remaining activity was the humming of the laboratory installed in the old greenhouse. I knew the subject of his work - the energy of the human body but I do not know really what he sought.

I progress gently between the laboratories desks covered of experimental material. The complex machine filters, concentrates, heats and fills up the place of a distant memory of our melted scent. The bronze pipes lead me towards a strange receptacle of which emanates familiar aura.

“Professor Tanaka? ”