The instructor asked me to wait a minute when class was dismissed. After everyone left, he said that he liked the way I think outside the box, and that he has an assignment for me.
I didn't say anything but just waited to hear what it was.
"I want you to find a cure for gravity."
At first, I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't.
"I'm serious. If anyone can, it's you."
I looked at him for a second and then asked, "When do you need it?"
That all happened towards the end of last year.
Just last week I went into the campus library and checked out every book they had that contained the word helium. There were almost one hundred of them.
I tied them all together with bakery string, then tied the other end to my backpack, knowing that anyone with good willpower cannot break or untie bakery string. At the first sign of a slight breeze, I floated up over the administration building, across the quad, and then quickly out of sight.
I have yet to come down, so I have no clue what grade I'm
getting.
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