Decision

Newspapers were ruffling, books turned with furious intensity. The phone light kept on shining with intermittent beeps of pim pim pim pim. Someone was donning a glass which he takes on and off at intervals peering over the spread books splattered all over his desk one after the other. Small rivulets flowed down his cheeks to the rivers created by his steaming sweat. The ball tip and the butt of the pen bore all the punishments from his gnashing teeth. The atmosphere was literally bubbling with the sweetest simulation of the struggles of man and the distress of childbirth before the cheers. The rickety-crickety old table and chair bore the brunt of this epic moment in mankind's history with silent constraint and squeakers of complaints. The pitch huey darkness provides the best light background to this epic drama of the wars of heaven.

The soul of man triveth to learn, to challenge, to conquer, and rule all that appeals to his consciousness. The cosmos plays with us the game of the m