Homo Cosmien
Kojo
Sunlight drifted softly through the window, accompanied by a gentle, warm breeze that billowed the curtains like a pair of Spanish dancers in a twirling embrace. The faint sounds of tropical birds echoed from the nearby rainforest, and the sun ascended into the clear blue sky; it was the dawn of a new day.
A gentle voice whispered in his mind, "Kojo, Kojo, it is time to awaken, sir."
An elderly cosmien rolled over in his bed, pulling a pillow over his head, his long gray hair becoming entangled in the twisted cushion.
"Kojo, your lecture is scheduled for eleven this morning. You would not want to be late, sir," the voice persisted in Kojo's head.
"Go away, can't you perceive that I am sleeping?" Kojo grumbled without extricating his head from its newfound soft haven. A quiet buzzing sound commenced and gradually grew louder until Kojo could no longer endure it. He turned in bed and sat up, his long silver hair dangling in disarray about his shoulders. His wrinkled face contorted into a wide yawn. As he shook off the remnants of sleep, his calm and intelligent expression returned.
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