James Clerk Maxwell. His name has been echoing in my mind for weeks now, ever since I stumbled upon a worn-out textbook on electromagnetic theory in the college library’s discard bin. I remember feeling a strange sense of familiarity as I flipped through its yellowed pages, like reconnecting with an old friend from childhood. What …
I’m standing at the stove, flipping pancakes as quietly as humanly possible, which turns out is not very quiet. Every flip sounds like a small betrayal. Pandora’s still asleep down the hall. She’s been stressed lately, so I’m trying not to wake her. That means no music, no clattering, no aggressive pancake flipping. Just me. …
