Perfect Peter — 4
August 1, 2026, 11:35 PM (GMT+6)
One day, while Peter was doing what he always did—taking notes—a classmate walked up to him.
“Hey.”
Peter looked up for a moment.
“Hi,” he replied.
He was annoyed by the interruption. He had seen the boy around college before, but they had never really spoken.
Whenever Peter used to study, he would disappear into a world of his own. It was like he was diving into an ocean where the water blocked his ears and sealed his mouth. Nothing outside mattered. All that existed was the next page, the next chapter, and the next exam. Being interrupted used to feel like someone forcefully opening his mouth and turning his breathing back on while he was still drowning in the ocean of knowledge.
Peter lowered his head and tried to focus again. He did not even ask the boy’s name.
Surprisingly, the boy did not ask what Peter was studying. Instead, he asked,
“Why are you reading this, Peter?”
“Because it’s in my syllabus. These questions will be on the next exam.”
“But what’s in it for you?”
“I’ll get good marks if I study more and practise more.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll get into a good university.”
“And then?”
“I’ll get a high-paying job.”
The boy smiled.
“So what? What’s in it for you?”
Peter fell silent. The question irritated him more than it confused him. Without saying another word, he went back to his notes as if the conversation had never happened.
The boy stood there for a few moments before quietly saying,
“Maybe you’ll remember me one day. I just hope that day comes sooner.”
Then he walked away.
Now, lying on his deathbed, Peter remembers that classmate—the one who had spoken to him for only a few seconds in all ninety years of his life. Yet he still cannot understand what those questions meant. To him, they remain nothing more than meaningless words.
As the memory fades, the old irritation returns. Peter still believes that boy stole a few precious seconds that could have been spent studying. After all, the boy had never scored anywhere near Peter in any exam.
And even if those words had meant something, they were never Peter’s concern. They were not in his syllabus.