.:a man and a squirrel:.
Oct 18, 2010 12:24:14 GMT -5
Post by Peter Longfield on Oct 18, 2010 12:24:14 GMT -5
So if n stayed constant…and X, Y, and Z must be whole numbers to solve the proof…and they had to be greater than 2…Flach’s Method, yes, that would be key… But surely that couldn’t be all there was to it because Peter felt that he was missing something big. No, Flach’s should do it. It made use of the semisquare that would be necess-Wednesday. It was Wednesday. That’s what he was missing. And he had five minutes to get from the tree he was currently perched in all the way across campus to Sean’s office. It wasn’t going to happen on two feet. Good thing he had several options.
What had been an Eastern Chipmunk one second became a soft grey Mississippi Kite the next, and set wing towards the buildings several hundred yards away. He could probably get the older man to let him in the window, but it was cold and just as easy to swoop through the doorway as someone conveniently exited the building. Ah, that was better. The chipmunk was well suited to the colder climes of the North, but the kite was built for warmer weather. Maybe he could wheedle some hot chocolate out of the good doctor.
With two large, human feet firmly back on the ground, Peter made his way through halls that he’d been wandering for more than twenty years now. He might be a little…easily distracted, but Peter had never had problems with getting lost. Ah, the school paper had been printed. Peter picked up one of the publications from the bin and continued on his way. It seemed that the basketball team was doing well. And Gretchen had been allowed to publish another one of her ghastly poems. Someone really needed to do that girl a favor and give her an honest opinion.
Peter lifted his hand to knock, still scanning the art section, only to realize that the door in front of him was in fact already open. “Afternoon Doc—Sean.” Ten years and he still often forgot that he was a teacher now and could call his colleagues by their given names. It was an old argument. But it was a hard habit to break. You called someone something for ten years and then all of the sudden it was something else. He had long since given up on apologizing for being late however. The psychiatrist knew him far too well to be surprised that he’d gotten caught up in a new proof. Or rather, a very old one, but one that had only recently been satisfactorily proven. “I have a proof I’m working on, lost track of time. Forgot it was Wednesday in fact. I did not forget to finish grading the homework assignments however. And I met a man, but I was a squirrel. And it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Have you gotten a chance to read that book I gave you? Very interesting look into the human mind. Not that you don’t already have one, but other perspectives and all.” It wasn’t even a nervous habit. Peter just spoke until his thoughts were used up and he had a very active brain indeed.
What had been an Eastern Chipmunk one second became a soft grey Mississippi Kite the next, and set wing towards the buildings several hundred yards away. He could probably get the older man to let him in the window, but it was cold and just as easy to swoop through the doorway as someone conveniently exited the building. Ah, that was better. The chipmunk was well suited to the colder climes of the North, but the kite was built for warmer weather. Maybe he could wheedle some hot chocolate out of the good doctor.
With two large, human feet firmly back on the ground, Peter made his way through halls that he’d been wandering for more than twenty years now. He might be a little…easily distracted, but Peter had never had problems with getting lost. Ah, the school paper had been printed. Peter picked up one of the publications from the bin and continued on his way. It seemed that the basketball team was doing well. And Gretchen had been allowed to publish another one of her ghastly poems. Someone really needed to do that girl a favor and give her an honest opinion.
Peter lifted his hand to knock, still scanning the art section, only to realize that the door in front of him was in fact already open. “Afternoon Doc—Sean.” Ten years and he still often forgot that he was a teacher now and could call his colleagues by their given names. It was an old argument. But it was a hard habit to break. You called someone something for ten years and then all of the sudden it was something else. He had long since given up on apologizing for being late however. The psychiatrist knew him far too well to be surprised that he’d gotten caught up in a new proof. Or rather, a very old one, but one that had only recently been satisfactorily proven. “I have a proof I’m working on, lost track of time. Forgot it was Wednesday in fact. I did not forget to finish grading the homework assignments however. And I met a man, but I was a squirrel. And it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Have you gotten a chance to read that book I gave you? Very interesting look into the human mind. Not that you don’t already have one, but other perspectives and all.” It wasn’t even a nervous habit. Peter just spoke until his thoughts were used up and he had a very active brain indeed.
