Entangled

I'm still writing this, it's just non-periodic. Writing is hard, okay?

Life was pretty good for Sam.

He was about to turn in his final paper. Sixty-three pages on quantum information theory, stored in a three ring binder and carefully placed in his bag.

But he was worried. What was he going to do? He wasn't really one to think ahead. Smart, yes, but forward thinking? That was something for other people to do. He supposed it wasn't good to rely on other people for everything, but it hadn't failed him yet.

There were more pressing things, however. Like the stairs. Sam really didn't like stairs, but these ones in particular always tripped him up.

He braced himself, waiting for impact, and–

Since when was theregrassin the physics department?