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It has never changed – even after hundreds of years.
You can sense it not with the sound of footsteps, shadow, nor smell. It’s just like when you are soaking in a bathtub with your eyes closed and someone puts their hand in the water. You can just feel it.
He's here - Hob looks up slowly when he feels that.
Morpheus is standing there, looking the same as he had for hundreds of years, but on his face looking down at Hob has the softest smile he has ever seen. And the word that comes out from his mouth brings the same smile on Hob's face too.
Friend.
Morpheus takes the seat in front of Hob and leans back on the chair, and they look at each other for a while in a warm silence.
No words are needed between them.
The time they've been apart was a little longer than their usual, but the void was filled so easily as an empty glass gets filled with beer.
“So, you made it to find this place?”
Hob opens his mouth. Morpheus knows that the question has no particular meaning and just says “yes.”
“I was disturbed when I heard that place was going to be closed,” Hob says.
“It's actually strange that it's been there for hundreds of years, and I thought we'd finally lost in the changing of times. But… I didn’t want to lose it.”
Because he felt like they'd never meet again without that place, Hob thinks, but doesn’t say it. “Never giving up and going on is one of my few strong points, you know?” he says instead.
“I was lucky to be in my rather good era at that time,” Hob laughed, “so, I managed to get this place.”
“You got this place?
“Well, I’m not the only one who contributed, though. We all need a place for a good pint after all,” Hob flicks the mug with his finger.
“Now, where do we start?” Hob leans forward. “The last hundred years - and some - have been awesome!”
Morpheus looks at Hob whose eyes are shining with excitement.
“In just one year or so, it develops as much as a hundred years in the old days, you know? It makes me feel dizzy.”
Morpheus listens silently as Hob talks about the technology — telephone, car, computer and so on and on — that never seems to stop developing.
“Not only good things, of course. There were two big wars, wars that took the whole world with,” says Hob, whose face turns gloomy, and silence falls. “Well... let’s not talk about it now” Hob says, and smiles again. “Want something to drink?” he asks.
“Yes.” “What would you like?”
“Anything” says Morpheus and adds, “you recommend.”
Hob goes to the bar counter and Morpheus looks at the papers in front of Hob’s seat.
Hob soon comes back with a mug full of beer. The bubbles are popping silently on the surface of the golden beer. “Here you are. The best of the house.” Hob looks happy and slightly proud, when Morpheus receives and says thanks.
“Are you now a teacher?” Morpheus asks and Hob nods, “yes.”
“Do you teach history?”
“No,” Hob chuckled, shaking his head. “English”
“I see.”
“Well, once I've been a history teacher actually, but it didn’t work,” Hob said.
“Because, you know, history books are full of lies! I know it because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But you can’t just say so, right? So I just quit... what's wrong?”
Hob raises his eyebrows as he sees Morpheus smirking.
“Let me guess,” Morpheus says quietly. “You did not just leave quietly, did you, Hob Gadling?”
“Well, no.” Hob shrugs.
“People called me crazy when I argued in academic meetings, and my papers were always rejected! That society is full of stubborn olds who just follows history!"
“I'm quite sure you are older than all of them," says Morpheus.
"Well," Hob rolls his eyes a bit. "I didn't stick to the world like that.” He takes a gulp from his mug.
“I can’t stay in one place for long anyway. So I started as an English teacher, teaching the depths of this language, and also, that our country's greatest writers are not only Shakespeare.”
Hob remembers something and takes out a card case from the pocket of his jacket, and hands over a small card to Morpheus.
“But I like to talk about history, so now I’ve got a YouTube channel and posts videos. You can watch them if you like.”
“You... what?”
“YouTube, it’s a website. These days, anyone can make a video and share it with the world. It’s an amazing time, isn’t it? Everyone is into it these days. Well, it makes children stay up late and affect their sleep too, though.”
“I’m very much aware of it,” Morpheus sighs.
“Oh you are? Anyway, so I made a channel and started posting videos about something like inside stories of the history, and it’s getting quite popular. Now I already have about 10,000 subscribers. You can watch it too. the URL is on the card, and if you like it, please give some likes and subscribe to my channel!”
Morpheus stares at Hob who says that all at once. He doesn’t get almost anything Hob says, but he just answers “I see,” and looks down at the card in his hand.
This man always finds a way to fully savour the age he's living in.
“But at this pace, I don't know what's going to happen – “ Hob stops and looks down, “ – in the next hundred years...”
“Next time we meet?” says Morpheus. “Another hundred yea...” “Hey,”Hob interrupts. Morpheus looks like he's expected it, but what Hob says next was not.
“Do you know what's the best way when you lose the rhythm while dancing?”
“What...?” Morpheus stares at him.
“Switch to a new dance step, just start something completely different,” Hob winks and continues.
“Our centennial rhythm has been lost. So, let's forget the old dance.”
Hob’s hand gently touched the slender fingers of Morpheus.
“Let's try a whole new step,” he says with the smile that never changes for hundreds of years.