The Absurdity of the Spheres
Professor Barnaby was the only man in Manhattan who could make a lecture on orbital mechanics feel like a cocktail party. He wore linen suits that were perpetually wrinkled, smelled faintly of expensive gin, and taught his courses at Columbia University with a chaotic energy that bordered on the theatrical. "Listen up, you miserable little drones!" Barnaby would shout, waving a half-eaten...
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