The White Space. Chapter 11 — Symbol
He entered the apartment. A typical white apartment. Everything precise, correct, sterile. No deviations, no unnecessary details. The only thing that immediately caught his attention were broken chairs near the dining table. One lay on its side, the other was split in half. Small plastic fragments were scattered on the floor, as if they had been broken quite recently. This made the main character uneasy. His gaze slowly moved further into the apartment. And then he saw it. Through slightly open doors, warm light slipped out. A thin strip fell onto the white floor, sharply contrasting with the neutral lighting of the apartment. He froze for a moment. Then slowly looked at his new acquaintance. The other man was also watching him. A slight tension appeared in his gaze. A short silence settled between them. Each of them had their own secret. And if the main character had revealed his unintentionally, his neighbor seemed to have revealed his deliberately.
— I like your lighting in the bedroom, — the main character said, smiling faintly.
The neighbor paused for a moment, then returned the same restrained smile. The tension in the room immediately dissolved. They understood each other.
— I accidentally saw part of your apartment today, — the neighbor said carefully choosing his words. — And I decided to take a risk by reaching out to you. He paused for a moment, as if checking the reaction. — It seems… you might understand what exactly I want to change in my space.
— I think I understand you, — the main character replied. — What would you like your space to be like?
The neighbor thought for a moment.
— I have only one request. I want it to be bright. Everything else is up to you.
The main character smiled slightly.
— Well… then let’s begin.
He looked around, carefully assessing the apartment. Before him was a typical white space — even, sterile, without any emotion. Like a blank canvas waiting for the first brushstrokes of paint. He activated his glasses and opened the materials library. And began transforming the space. Step by step, colors appeared. Deep tones, warm materials, light that made the room feel alive. The white space gradually filled with color. Filled with life. The printer hummed pleasantly, bringing new life into the space. Sirius eagerly selected furniture and sent it to print. When he finished with the living room, he entered the bedroom. The warm light of a bedside lamp fell across the white space — he decided to leave it there as a small symbol of the beginning of change, a small artifact from which everything started. The shredder rustled, the printer buzzed — old white furniture disappeared, and in its place appeared colorful, rich, and alive pieces. Then he moved to the bathroom, filling it with color, and after finishing the work, he looked satisfied at his new companion, waiting for his reaction. The man stood there, unable to find words. But his expression said everything without them. Words were unnecessary. The main character understood the answer without speech.
— That lamp in the bedroom you left… it was a gift from my sister, — the neighbor said heavily, his voice filled with deep bitterness. — She managed to give it to me before she was taken by the police. And I never saw her again.
— I understand that it was important to you, — the main character replied softly, trying to choose the right words. — That’s why I decided to leave it.
— Thank you. She would have been happy to see how my space has changed… and to see her gift still here, — the man said with a sad smile.
They stood in silence for a while, simply looking at the room.
— She has a son, — he continued after a pause. — He recently finished training as a space corrector. And I would like… if it’s appropriate… to introduce you to him.
Sirius thought for a moment. But the neighbor, sensing his hesitation, immediately added:
— He can definitely be trusted. My sister raised him well. She always encouraged his taste for unconventional things. He’s truly talented. But maybe you could give him a few tips… show him a better path.
Mentorship, — the main character thought. He had never considered something like that. But it could be a good idea.
— Let’s meet on the weekend. Get acquainted and see what comes of it, — he replied.
They shook hands. And each of them felt that they had just found a companion in this world. And he understood something else important — this was what he wanted to do next, as if repainting the world with his spaces. Now there were no doubts left. He would search for people who also sought change, and he would do it with joy, helping them bring their desires into reality. So he gained his first companion — a person with whom he shared something. Whether it was a desire for beautiful space, or perhaps a shared tendency to break rules.
The next day he received another assignment in Lucerne. Again — another opening of a new world for himself. He wanted to absorb this world completely: to study it, explore it, find new ideas.
On the way he stopped again at a roadside café recommended by that police officer. This time he was more confident and ordered something new for himself — a burger and a cola. The taste of hot meat with a freshly baked bun and melted cheese was incredible. He could feel the texture of every ingredient. Each had its own taste, and together they formed something extraordinary. Not like the monotonous smoothies from his own world. And the sweet sparkling water flowed inside, cooling him and giving him energy. All of this was amplified by the incredible landscape opening from the café terrace.
His client was a woman around seventy-five years old. But the energy coming from her was astonishing. She did not look like a grandmother, but like a beautiful woman with soft wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. In those wrinkles seemed frozen a lifelong smile that probably rarely left her face. Sometimes you can tell from a face whether a person has lived a happy life. It never lies.
She had a slim figure and a very stylish appearance. Every piece of her outfit was perfectly chosen: long black skirt-trousers, a beige silk blouse neatly tucked in, a short shawl with a black-and-beige pattern over her shoulders. On her hands — something like long fingerless gloves. Silver accessories with black details completed her look. Sirius thought that he was twice as young as her, yet he had not even half of her energy. Next to her, he felt older.
She showed him her house. And the house fully reflected her personality. She was an artist — something long forgotten in the white world of the main character. Her home looked like a gallery. Everywhere stood her sculptures: made of stone, metal, wood. On the walls hung bright abstract paintings. There were not many of them — just enough to complement the interior without distracting from it.
Every time he discovered something new in this world. And now he discovered another dimension — paintings and sculptures that can complete a space. In these works there was an entire world. The main character could not fully see it, but he could feel it.
Recently, an extension had been added to the house, and she wanted to turn it into a library. She had an endless collection of books and wanted to create a special place for them. It was a large space, and the main character divided it into two levels. On the ground floor he placed tall bookshelves along the entire perimeter. In the center — a lounge area with armchairs, floor lamps, and table lamps. On the upper level he created something like a balcony gallery with additional rows of books. On the far wall there was a large window, through which the second level gallery passed.
He had never worked with such a large space before. It was difficult and unusual. And here he realized something: space does not need to be filled completely. Not every square meter has to be occupied. Sometimes you need to leave empty space — so the room can breathe.
And he began to create. The first level turned into a deep green tone, the second into a deep beige with a slight clay shade. In the center appeared leather reddish sofas, near them he placed a fireplace. He created an incredibly cozy library — so large and impressive for him, like nothing before.
Proudly, he showed the result to the woman.
— I would like to give you a gift, — she said, looking at the library with satisfaction. — As a sign of gratitude.
She pointed to one of her sculptures. It was a figure of a man standing straight — feet together, arms pressed to his body as if at attention. His head and gaze were lifted upward. On the sculpture’s face there was a large drop of water made of glass. The main character immediately liked it. It strangely reflected his own feeling: standing motionless in space, afraid to move… but still looking up.
The glass drop covered part of the face, as if blocking the colorful world from him, not allowing him to see it fully. But at that moment a ray of light hit the glass drop and split into a full spectrum of colors. The drop seemed to hide the world — and at the same time reveal it.
But something upset him.
— I am very grateful for such an incredible gift, — he said sincerely. — But unfortunately I cannot accept it. Where I come from, such things are not allowed. And I don’t think I would be permitted to bring it back.
A slight sadness appeared on her face. She lowered her eyes. But a moment later she raised them again — and playful sparks lit up in them.
— What if I just send you the 3D model? — she said happily. — You could print it yourself.
— Hmm… that is actually a good idea, — he replied with a smile.
But she suddenly added:
— Then I will ask you to do one thing. Delete this sculpture with your shredder.
He looked at her in surprise.
— Why?
— So you can have a unique copy, — she said. — That is the essence of art. Uniqueness.
— But it will still be a copy… — he replied, slowly understanding her idea.
— Not exactly, — she said. — The original is the 3D model that will leave this world with me one day. And the model I send you will be deleted immediately after printing. So when I am gone, your sculpture will remain the only one.
She smiled.
— That is how I work with my clients. Everyone receives a unique sculpture.
— Interesting system, — the main character replied.
— And it also creates a story behind the sculpture. And story always increases the value of art.
She lit up with joy, like a child who had just done something forbidden and was proud of it. She put on her stylish brown-framed glasses and waved her hands lightly.
— The 3D model is already in your library, — she said. — Turn on the shredder.
His hand trembled slightly. But he still turned on the machine. She watched with the same childish, rebellious excitement as her creation disappeared piece by piece.
Sirius also wanted to somehow repay her, but he did not know how.
— Thank you for the library you created for me, — she said with the same warm smile, and extended her hand.
On the way back he stopped by the Department of Space to return used materials and refill color cartridges — they were almost empty. This place felt much more pleasant than the Ministry of Space. The people were friendly, and the building itself even felt somewhat cozy. Yet a sense of unease still remained near such institutions.
He sighed with relief when he finally left the building and got into the car.
He still had some time in this world, but this time he did not want to linger. He wanted to return home as quickly as possible and print the sculpture the woman had given him. Even the white world he returned to did not disturb him as much this time. Because now at home there was a small colored world waiting for him. And he was no longer the only one who saw it. His neighbor did. And tomorrow, perhaps, another one would appear — his neighbor’s nephew.
As soon as he entered the apartment, he did not even take off his jacket. From the doorway he sent the sculpture to print. The printer hummed quietly, filling the apartment with a familiar sound. Layer by layer the figure began to appear. He stood nearby and watched.
When the printing finished, as the woman had said, the 3D model immediately disappeared from the system. And at that moment he felt something strange. Something unique had appeared in his apartment. Not just another object. Not just a beautiful sculpture. Something that reflected himself.
He looked at the figure of the man standing straight, looking upward through the glass drop. His apartment was no longer just a collection of colorful furniture. Something had appeared in it that he had already seen in the woman’s house. And in the previous one. Individuality. A space created for a specific person. A space that tells something about its owner.
He looked around. And realized that every time he returned from Lucerne, he brought something new into his apartment. Like small fragments of that world. And with each time, his apartment became more alive. And more his own.