Addict? Meet Jedi (Sean)
Dec 25, 2012 0:52:14 GMT -5
Post by Malcom Black on Dec 25, 2012 0:52:14 GMT -5
((Occurs before Christmas.))
Malcom wasn’t sure how he was supposed to buy textbooks. After registering for classes, he’d made a long list of all the books he was supposed to buy, carefully, in his solid but always legible handwriting. He’d made a note of the prices in the campus bookstore, then went online and discovered that they were just as expensive there.
Clearly, there was something he was missing.
But he had government funding here, and it was enough to cover the cost, so he shrugged his shoulders and went into the local bookstore to see what, exactly, he was in for. The results were alarming. The remedial algebra book had topics he didn’t even remember learning in school, and the English asked questions like “what do the purple drapes symbolize?” Malcom wouldn’t have known what the purple drapes symbolized if the author had sat him down and patiently explained it to him. Truthfully, he really wasn’t keen on symbolism. He’d slept through his English class. His biology textbook involved DNA and m and t RNA and generally gave him a headache before he got through the first pages. And the psychology book…
Ugh. He didn’t even want to go into the psychology book. But it was the one he was leafing through in a certain horrified fascination as the other books that he was to purchase floated easily by his head. One thing that the R-Land had assisted him with was perfecting his control over his telekinesis. He’d had nothing else to do other than endless group therapy sessions and reading (Count of Monte-Cristo had been particularly enjoyable). He glanced up after a moment as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to process this, when he recognized Dr. Neville.
Now it wasn’t that he minded the doctor. He quite liked the man. He had a calm that a middle child of ten frankly envied. But Malcom had spent so many years avoiding the doctor that the flight instinct almost took over, and the books that had been hovering neatly by him went plummeting to the ground.
Thank Vishnu for quick reflexes.
Once he’d managed to secure the books, he offered the doctor an only slightly panicked smile and his hand and said, “Dr. Neville! Nice to see you around.”
Malcom wasn’t sure how he was supposed to buy textbooks. After registering for classes, he’d made a long list of all the books he was supposed to buy, carefully, in his solid but always legible handwriting. He’d made a note of the prices in the campus bookstore, then went online and discovered that they were just as expensive there.
Clearly, there was something he was missing.
But he had government funding here, and it was enough to cover the cost, so he shrugged his shoulders and went into the local bookstore to see what, exactly, he was in for. The results were alarming. The remedial algebra book had topics he didn’t even remember learning in school, and the English asked questions like “what do the purple drapes symbolize?” Malcom wouldn’t have known what the purple drapes symbolized if the author had sat him down and patiently explained it to him. Truthfully, he really wasn’t keen on symbolism. He’d slept through his English class. His biology textbook involved DNA and m and t RNA and generally gave him a headache before he got through the first pages. And the psychology book…
Ugh. He didn’t even want to go into the psychology book. But it was the one he was leafing through in a certain horrified fascination as the other books that he was to purchase floated easily by his head. One thing that the R-Land had assisted him with was perfecting his control over his telekinesis. He’d had nothing else to do other than endless group therapy sessions and reading (Count of Monte-Cristo had been particularly enjoyable). He glanced up after a moment as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to process this, when he recognized Dr. Neville.
Now it wasn’t that he minded the doctor. He quite liked the man. He had a calm that a middle child of ten frankly envied. But Malcom had spent so many years avoiding the doctor that the flight instinct almost took over, and the books that had been hovering neatly by him went plummeting to the ground.
Thank Vishnu for quick reflexes.
Once he’d managed to secure the books, he offered the doctor an only slightly panicked smile and his hand and said, “Dr. Neville! Nice to see you around.”
