Row upon row of heads, tier upon tier of bodies. Shuffling noises, the undercurrent of two hundred asynchronous breaths being drawn and released. Someone coughs, another sneezes then blows thier nose, while another sniffs inelegantly, hoping nobody noticed.
There is no silence, but instead a noisy sort of quiet as two hundred pairs of ears strain to hear the narration of what two hundred pairs of eyes follow on the projection board in front of them. The clatter of pens being put down and picked up, searched for in pencil cases and dropped on the floor. Pens clicked, tapped, chewed in concentration and as the chewer drifts into daydream before shaking thier head and returning to the present. Eliptocyctosis, splemomegaly, anaemia; long words hang in the air with almost tangible crushing weight. Two hundred brains bend themselves around an endless parade of facts and tidbits of knowledge, gawp at the image of a grossely over-distended spleen and sigh over complex diagrams of molecules arranged in a complex network.
Heads begin to loll as the lecture continues, concentration wavers and every now and again a muttered conversatin can be heard.
When the lecture ends, there will be a clattering of feet, as bodies rush to stand. Voices will raise suddenly as chatter errupts among friends anxious to continue conversations halted by the neccessity of learning. Bags will clater as pens, cases, pads and folders are slung in carelessly or wedged in; noise will conquor silence to reign once again.
But for now, quiet rules. Shuffling bodies, subdued movement, interrupted by the rattle of pen and the rustle of paper.
Dedicated to the interminable droning of Protein Pete
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