As it turns out, he had a book in his hands. Seated in what looked like a comfortable chair, to his surprise, everything around him was moving.

He had seen this page a thousand times before. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was dreaming. Could it happen again? For some reason, he couldn’t open the next page. These things have their moments, and this looked like one of those moments when the brain gets caught in the twilight moment.

But what were all these people doing around him? Are they looking for his book, his chair or him? No one said a word. For some reason, they all appeared to move synchronously. The narcotics had taken their toll. It was a matter of time before he realized their intentions. He was never going to give his chair up.

Where is help when you need it, he wondered to himself. The police may never understand but his gang, if they were here, they would sort these people out in a flash. To his surprise, he could see their faces changing almost like they were aliens. The anxiety began to take its tall. He couldn’t focus his eyes, breathing heavily, hands shaking; the book suddenly became heavy, the legs constantly twitching restlessly.

Like a lion, he roared with a loud voice, I was here first and you are not having my chair. Suddenly he woke up and found everyone surprised in the lecture hall looking at him.