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They say every population gradually moves towards an equilibrium in the people consistent with the 95-4-1 rule.
Mrs. Tao was droning on as usual, talking about things that Sam would never need to know—nor care to know. Instead of paying attention to something worthless, Sam was focusing all of his attention on the doodles in front of him:
The world slowly came into view; first too dark to see, then too blurred to see, and then too confusing to understand. Widening his eyes in surprise, confusion, and worry, Tom tried to sit up from the relatively hard bed he seemed to be laying in. He’d only raised up a few inches when an outstretched arm pressed back firmly against his chest, pinning him in place.
“Don’t move,” a heavily-accented (French, Tom thought) voice quickly said. The woman’s face was still blurred, but Tom could see her hovering over him in case he tried to stir again.
Normally, I would turn my pillow over to get to the colder side after I’ve sat up at night writing. I normally set my laptop on my pillow and prop myself up on one elbow to write, and the warmth of the laptop lingers on my pillow afterwards. When I can’t stand to keep my eyelids open any longer, I slip my laptop under my bed, turn my pillow over, and lay my head down where my electronic baby was just moments before. That’s what I’d normally do.
Not tonight though. It’s been a rough day.