Dave Chrabolowski 030624 Paul Sample

In a tense room filled with historical significance, a scientist nervously reveals the number they have discovered. The president demands an answer, and the scientist reluctantly responds with "Fifty." The room falls silent as everyone waits for the president's reaction. Here it is, it was happening right now, an ear-piercing moment of silence when you can no longer think straight or comprehend your surroundings. That silence when it seems all the air is being sucked out of the room, turning it into a vacuum. That moment when you are stunned into jaw-dropping disbelief and your heart turns to lead. It is nothing short of terrifying, but when your moment is about to be shattered by something as terrifying as a human voice, it can be devastating. What's the number? A lone piercing voice demands an answer through the silence room, and what a room, a cathedral to history that at every corner draws your attention to a historic moment in time where life and death decisions are made, dreams are made, or broken. Whatever was said and decided in this room went down in history, and today was to be no exception. The atmosphere was heavy and intense, as if something was about to explode. In this room stood twelve people, but it may as well have been one, as all the attention was on the singular person and what he was about to say. The question was directed at this one man, and this one man alone, and he needed to give the answer, and answers were wanted, not expected. Just a lift of his eyes, the lone voice demands, well, spit it out. A very nervous-looking scientist in his white coat and black shoes takes a minuscule step forward, holding the clipboard as if it were a shield. He debates to himself, do I just say it out loud, or go through the story? Then he looks up, tripping over his words, he tries to explain, well, according to our most recent research on a study of abruptly, the lone confident voice butts in and stops him short. A now slightly agitated president, Sidney Thomas, demands an answer to his question. He slams his hand down on his impressive desk, as if to wake someone from their slumber. Just give me the number! His words slowly drifted across the room to the lead scientist, who shuffled forward another tiny step, not really wanting to offer the information he knew he would have to divulge. Davidson, the scientist, takes a deep breath and answers softly, as if almost hoping his reply would go unnoticed. He could feel his stomach churning and his mouth was dry, but he had to say it. Fifty, sir! He could see the president trying to make sense of the number he had just spoken, and now holds his breath, not knowing what sort of response he was about to receive. There is a short gasp from behind him as the blank faces of the other scientists can't believe that he has actually uttered the number, and then a cold, frosty silence while his answer sank in. With everyone looking at one another, the pause seemed like an eternity while they waited for a response from the president. It takes a moment for the president to digest the information he has just received. He looks up from the paperwork in front of him.