In All of Infinity Read Online Free

about it. “We cannot capture life like we can
water…”
     
    He put out his cigarette in the nearby
ashtray, pulled himself from the table, and stood looking down at
them.
     
    “Emmanuel—” Camie began, tears falling down
her face. “Emmanuel—”
     
    “I’m sorry if I ruined your appetites. I’ll
be leaving now,” he said and looked towards the door where he’d
entered. “Farewell, Aunt Camie. Peter.”
     
    They did not follow him. If they called his
name, he would not have turned. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of
something far greater than conversation. He was thinking of ways he
could capture life.
     
    When Emmanuel returned to York County,
everything was as he’d left it a fortnight ago. He retrieved his
key from his trusted neighbor, who looked at him as if he’d lost
his mind. After all, with the way he’d left, no one expected to see
him return. The neighbor, who happened to be Father Brevard, the
man who’d presided over his wedding and wife’s death, could only be
trusted because he was a man of the cloth. There were many people
in York County that Emmanuel had known longer, but none of them had
been so connected to him and his wife. After all, he was
responsible for bringing them together.
     
    As Emmanuel walked away
from Father Brevard’s house, stuffing his hands in his pockets, he
knew he was being watched. Poor
widow , he knew they thought. Look at him: he’s so pitiful. He’s such a
disgrace. Sulking here, there, and now I hear he’s going to defeat
death. Oh, he’s an awful sight! With a
shrug towards the wind, he decided he didn’t give a damn what they
thought.
     
    He marched up the lane, looking towards the
sky that was as black with the threat of rain as the day when he
left. For a moment, he associated himself with the darkness and
realized how similar they were. Emmanuel shrugged the thought aside
and continued on, attempting to whistle, but he realized he wasn’t
in the mood for song and dance. He was in the mood for silence, so
he stayed that way until he reached his familiar house.
     
    When he was safe inside, he put the keys in
his pocket and walked into the living room. The smell of jasmine
had almost disappeared, as if Esme hadn’t existed at all. He could
no longer picture her reclining on the couch, her smooth hands
calling for him, wanting him to feel the movement of their unborn
child. She was no longer with him, and that was as it should be for
she wouldn’t approve of what he was planning.
     
    Emmanuel tried to remember why he had ever
been happy, but surrendered and walked towards the fireplace. He
stared at it, amazed in the difference between how it was now and
the day of her death. When she passed on, the fire was burning,
roaring with a life she no longer possessed, but now it was so cold
that the wood appeared frozen. He could hear the sound of wind
coming from the chimney before he felt the blast on his face.
     
    Emmanuel stood silently for a minute before
opening the matchbox on the mantle and setting the wood ablaze. He
watched it for a moment, and then rushed upstairs with the keys
jingling in his pocket. Although his plan was a simple one, to
completely remove her presence from his house, a part of him
wrestled with his brain. It was his heart. The brain and body
functioned as one as he took her possessions to the attic. Her
feminine clothing, pictures, jewelry, parchment, and everything on
the vanity table (including the jasmine) were deposited in a corner
of the attic furthest from his view. When Emmanuel had at last
brought up the vanity table and mirror, he covered them with a
sheet. He stood staring across the room, knowing the white sheet
covered his past, almost like a ghost. He attempted to calm his
heart that threatened to give out on him.
     
    Wiping sweat from his brow, he realized that
he was crying. He captured a few tears with his finger and looked
at it, wondering if capturing life would be the same as