THE time clocked 12 and the sun burned from sky as a tropical fireball here. Everything that could tell it was noon said it loud at Cannon University of the Caribbeans.
At the dot of the hour, a whistle went off as writing pens dropped. As it was the final exam... the very last paper for the finalist class of Pure Chemistry.
Yes, Marcuz López dropped his pen too, but he kept on staring at his paper.
He sat there just wishing and dreaming, hoping he could get that chance at least to end things well.
But Marcuz knew already that it was over. Particularly then when Dr. Jacques had blown his whistle.
Anton Jacques was one famous associate professor in the department of pure chemistry. His nickname among all the students was “Time Bomb.”
So it’d always happened that when he was to oversee an exam, especially as the chief examiner, he’d go to his center with a timer clock big enough to be seen from anywhere.
Then he’d set the hours counting down to stop time once the paper began.
So he’d always hung his big timer for students to see. And the moment time was up, he’d sound his whistle real loud...
Anyone caught writing afterward faced the music.
Marcuz gazed up at the professor now. For it wasn’t that he wasn’t done answering his questions. But the 22 year old was unable to dot his last answer with a period…
And that missing stop made him feel he wasn’t done. So he lost his cool and stared with begging eyes.
Yes, the brilliant chap knew already that a period had quite little or nothing to do with chemistry. He knew quite all right he wouldn’t lose any point without the dot.
Yet Marcuz Lopéz wanted to end all stuff. It was his own style of waving Cannon bye.
But just then, one of the junior staff invigilating there walked to him and picked up his booklet.
Marcuz dropped a small sigh, then bowed over his desk and moaned. He suddenly lost the thrill so he grumbled.
“It’s all over now! It’s finally over! Well, I came; I saw... and it’s now over!”
He said those words sulking in.
Now it seemed those were the very same lines flying around the exam center. Except that folks were yapping theirs thrilled about leaving school.
They were talking and chatting, bouncing and going all over the place. So it really seemed as if Marcuz hadn’t finished.
But just then, the dude felt two hands grip his shoulders and pull him up.
He looked straight up to see two friends of his, pull him out of the mood. They were the fireballs he’d got around him for a balanced school life.
So they called him over to join a dance party around the school starting then.
It was their finalist class throwing a loud dance treat round campus.
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