The Note

Today was the first class for the new students in the University. The professor, who was
seated in the front of the room on the platform, was illuminated by the golden light of
the rising sun that entered the room via the windows. The lecturer was focusing on
instructing his students at the time in a highly eloquent flow. He spoke in a stentorian
tone that echoed the cadences of Polish, occasionally waving his hand in the air as if
performing a recitation. His flashing eyes sometimes contemplated out of the rear
window at far-end of the classroom, farsightedly leaping over the denseness of students’
black top-heads.

The professor noticed that every one the students were listening with rapt attention and
busy jotting. The rubbing sounds of pens and papers only filled within the classroom
except the professor’s magnetic voice. All of the students’ eye-sights with filled with the
admiration and eagerness, like many x-rays, projected powerful beams of sunshine to
the professor. The sound of rubbing up and down was exchanged with the X-ray
radiated to the professor, and therefore the feeling of returning to the notebook was
deeply moved by the professor. He was just teaching his famous theory, "The
Progression of Knowledge by Society Development," was being taught now at time.
Because of this idea, he was recognized as the best lecturer at this top-notch institution.
The majority of the hundreds of times he effectively presented the idea were to new
pupils. When he taught this theory that made a reputation for himself, he always felt his
blood boiled with hot temperature, his heart flopped fast, and his face reddened with a
overexcited emotion. Many of his new fans were formed as a result of his amazing
lecture. He was therefore quite happy with his speculational thought. He consistently
highlighted the value of writing down the theories before attempting to memorize them.

At that moment, he was casting his eyes round the classroom swiftly to create sure
everyone making notes with a satisfactory smiling. Suddenly, his smiling face become
grim, and his eye-sights were frozen within the corner beside a window of the rear of the
classroom. He found a boy-student didn’t make notes. The young man was only gazing
out the window. Nothing, the professor said in his heart as he followed the boy's eyes to
the window. He reasoned that "his thoughts must be someplace else." During the
roughly thirty years of his teaching career, he had no such absent-minded students. The
boy looked as if it would have break the strong learning atmosphere. The professor
couldn’t bear such situation exist from now on, he decided to correct him immediately.

The boy didn’t notice the massive change of the mood from the professor. His elbows
were resting against the desk, and he continued to cup his chin in his palms as he stared
blankly out the window. The professor approached him fast, panting subtly as he stood
there. He curved his finger knocking on his desk.

“Wake up! Don’t you recognize where you are?” In a voice that was both incredibly harsh
and dejected, the professor remarked to the boy. He was startled. With his mouth still
somewhat open and his eyes wide, he quickly turned around and turned back to face the
professor.

“Pro…, Professor,” the boy stammered.

The professor interrupted him and said, “Don’t you recognize how important the
category is! Why didn’t you create notes? What are you doing here?”

"Sorry about that," the boy said, his lip trembling slightly and his cheeks flushing. He
remarked in a trembling voice, "I have the notes,” he said during a weak voice.

“Did you? Show me your notebook!” the professor ordered.

The boy took out a fragile book from the drawer and hand to him. When he turned to
the notebook's first page, he saw well-written and organized notes. When he turned to
the notebook's first page, he saw well-written and organized notes. He repeatedly
turned his head from the notes to the youngster while maintaining a doubtful face.
Because he found that the notes addressed both the lessons he had taught earlier today
and the lessons he would be teaching moving forward.

“Tell me the truth. This isn’t yours. I've noticed you for a long time. You didn’t make any
notes. For sure, your brain had a decent trip somewhere,” the professor said calmly this
point.

The boy found the flames of the professor’s fury began to travel out, He said loudly,
“This is my father’s notes. He accustomed be your student while he studied within the
university. He liked what you've got taught substantially. He has kept the notes yet.
When he knew I’m your student, he gave of these to me. There were several notebooks
with different colored covers on the boy's desk, all of which were concerning his lessons.
The professor turned to face them when he felt the world abruptly go silent. He had the
impression that all of his vitality had been used up. Right immediately, I need to get
enough sleep, he reasoned to himself. But he discovered that he was encircled by
numerous hungry eyes.