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Novelo Rectangle

<h4>	One random Tuesday. Time: 6:15 a.m.</h4>	The bright, sunlit playground disappears, and so does the crowd chasing me. The ceiling of my bedroom replaces the nightmare. My arm swings around to silence the alarm.	A few more minutes.	I snap awake, with nobody chasing me anymore, wondering how long I overslept. When I say wonder, I mean I guess. I am obsessed with guessing stuff and betting on everyday outcomes. I was afraid that I was abnormal until Quantum physics happened to me. Knowing our world is fuzzy and rests on probability at its most fundamental level gave me hope.	Isn't hope a fifty-fifty chance itself?	"Six Twenty-two", I mutter and glance at the phone.	6:27. The blinkiång colon is mocking me.	#FAIL***	Once I’m dressed for work, I lock the front door behind me, and the game's afoot. I'm guessing if my bus is on time, the driver's gender, and even if I'd get a seat on the bus or if the heating would be good enough. These are all epic fails, but I am undeterred.	Some chances are predictable but extremely low, such as the probability of meeting an ideal partner. The odds of finding that one perfect person are close to zero if not zero itself. On the other hand, what is a lot of fun is my guessing game on the daily commute to work. It’s a game that keeps me busy–and amused.	My phone buzzes. One short buzz. Must be a text from Becky.	Bingo! First win of the day.	‘Hey Babe, you up for lunch today?’	Becky always addresses me as Babe, just as she does to every other guy on the floor. Nobody takes her seriously. I don't either.	‘Not sure yet, Becks, ’ I reply.	‘K lemme kno. Byeee xoxoxo’	Becky's chats are gushing with enthusiasm but short on substance. I'm betting she has already texted Eric and Ahmed, too. She's just so full of life–and herself. However, those X's and O's are stuck in my head. Becky always adds a long string of those to her texts. Sometimes, I try to convert them to binary. The answer for the last one is 101010, or 42—the answer to everything.	Using the phone on the bus makes me sick, but I ignore the discomfort until my stomach turns. Then I stare out the window. A cold autumn day says hello. People rush to work in warm overalls even as I freeze inside the bus—literally. Someone has cracked open a window, and I feel like an aeroplane on a test in a wind tunnel.	"Five people will get on from the next stop." I distract myself. Four.&nbsp;&nbsp;	Shit!	"Next set of lights will be green when we get there."	Yay!	“No, no, don't stop at this bus stop.” I meditate. The bus stops.	I look around in disappointment and stare at the 'No stopping' sign near the bus stop. I know the sign is meant for private vehicles, but I smile at the mild irony.	Hold on! Isn’t that sign just an X inside an O?	When I’m not guessing stuff, I’m looking for patterns. Quite the conflicting obsessions, I know, and I find it odd that I’m dwelling on that stupid sign. The bus lurches, picks up speed and everything is a blur now. I lose myself, once again, in the patterns that form in the rushing scenery: colours, shapes, and streaks. I count as many as fifteen No Stopping signs for the rest of the journey. Yes, I had tried to guess how many there would be.<h4>	Same random Tuesday. Time: 8:33 a.m.</h4>	My browser's home page opens to a science news site. However, I can't seem to focus on the words because caffeine hasn't taken the fog off my cornea yet.	"Pete, you functional sans coffee this morning?" Prabhu's deep baritone invades my reverie.	Who uses sans at 8:30 in the morning?	I rise from the chair and manage to greet him with a smile. Minutes later, we are falling to ground level in a metal cage.	"What's up?" Prabhu asks as the elevator doors ping on the 9th floor.	"Nothing much. Busy weekend."	"Yeah, me too." I can hear the lament in his voice, "Two kids don't leave you any room to relax."	"I know." I smile back. Honestly, I have no idea, as I live alone.	“Hey Pete,” Prabhu starts after a while, “You’re a Science guy, right?”	I glance at him quizzically. He laughs before adding, “I mean, you know all that weird Physics stuff, right? I came across something about Parallel Universe-”	“Where? In a sci-fi novel?”	“Nah, just an article that popped in my smartphone newsfeed.”	“Oh, OK!” I retort, “Sure. Do you mind if we get coffee first?”	“Of course!”	We make our way to the usual cafe that knows our preferences. I have guessed the number of people waiting in the queue.	Caffeine wakes me somewhat on the way back, and I address his pending query.	“There are many theories about Universes other than ours-” I wave my arm around for effect, “for instance, the one where each decision we make splits the Universe into two or more branches.”	Prabhu seems intrigued but is silent.	“The other one I find interesting is the one proposed a few years ago. In this ‘Many Interacting Worlds’ theory, particles from many worlds can seep into ours, making them appear in more than one place!” I stop for effect.	“Interesting,” Prabhu adds dryly, “and which of these has been proven so far?”	“Neither… ” I say with despair, “Meanwhile, the Quantum world of tiny particles never ceases to amaze!”	“By the way,” Prabhu asks after a long sip from his cup, “Do you think CERN will create a black hole someday?”	I laugh, and so does he. As we pass another No Stopping sign, Prabhu says: “You know, Pete, whenever I see this sign, it reminds me of CERN.”	“Why so?” I ask, a bit startled.	“Well, don’t you think the outer circle is like the cross-section of the tunnels where particles are accelerated, and the X is particles radiating out after a collision!”	“Wow, and I just imagined it to be a naughts and crosses”, I exclaim with a laugh.	Back at my desk, I search for the article on many worlds theory and re-read it before diving into my daily work; each particle is nothing but the overlapping of several worlds, the article concludes, which creates a blurred manifestation that we call a wave. Overlapping worlds that differ ever so minutely!<h4>	Same random Tuesday. Time: 11:55 a.m.</h4>	The calendar app appears on the monitor," Tuesday Tournament in 5 minutes. "Today's lunchtime game: The retro classic, Noughts and Crosses."	Whoa! Isn't that game just X's and O's all over again?	My phone buzzes. Not a short, regular buzz. A longer desperate one.	Now what?	It’s the maps app. It takes a second too long to open. A bright blue circle marks my current location, but what I find odd is a pulsating X marking a spot some three hundred metres away, I'm guessing, in a north-west-westerly direction.	Huh, live ads on the map?	I push the power button on my phone and get back to work while trying to guess my chances of winning the lunch hour tournament instead. The pattern seems to be building up with the Xs and Os!	The phone buzzes again, almost rumbling off the desk. The red X on the map is pulsating urgently. I tap on the X, and a balloon pops up: 'Food Court. Check out today's lunch favourites. Direction? Reviews?'	I take a wager that I will end up playing noughts and crosses or that my curiosity will lead me to the food court.	Three and a half minutes later, curiosity has won the bet.

Entanglement

k.p.s.plaha

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Coherence

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K P S Plaha

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