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A1 A Meeting of the Pravus by Bruce Meyer Joram sat crumpled in a loose chair composed of beans that conformed comfortably to his body and stared at the closet across the room while Nick worked math problems at a desk nearby. The closet stood open, dark, and burgeoning with clothes that were lying every which way except being properly hung. A laundry basked was overly stuffed and spilling over with soiled socks, shirts, and pants. In front of the basket, a pair of jeans laid spread- eagled on the floor, having been thrown there after being discarded. Several white and colored T-shirts were draped and piled haphazardly across the jeans. Beside the jeans were several canisters of energy juice, one of which had been opened, and even a few energy sticks. One sleeve of a white button-down shirt was caught over a hanger and hung suspended across the jeans, the shirts, and the juice canisters.
He felt like the clothes. Had he made a mistake in dropping Reproba's class? Was he throwing away his life like Reproba had said? What if he graduated from college four years from now and couldn't get a job while all the students of Reproba landed high-paying corporate offers? He imagined Rod Lekesik laughing at him from a high tower office of some corporate headquarters while Joram cleaned the bathrooms. The next office would be occupied by Jeff Pihe, who had moved a whole barbell assembly next to his desk, and regularly yelled at Joram for every speck of dust he found.
Thoughts swirled in his head like hot and cold winds chasing each faster and faster until they were a virtual tornado. Was he right? Was he wrong? Had he made the right decision? Which professor was right, Reproba or Veritas?
He stared at the laundry basked just inside the closet door, and then at the hanging shirt hovering over the jeans and the shirts. Just next to the hanging shirt, two laser red eyes stared at him out of the darkness.
Joram jumped to his feet but the strange eyes were gone.
"You alright, buddy?" Nick asked, facing him from his desk with a curious look across his broad face.
"Yeah."
He had been sleeping. That's what it was, he had just fallen asleep. It was a dream. Everything was just a bad dream.
Nick turned around and resumed working his math problem, but Joram began to furiously clean the closet.
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