In front of her was the frizzy-haired woman who had given Thea chocolate during yoga. She had used her name badge as a hair clip and stabbed pencils into her hair, arranging them so they stuck out like a spiky tiara. Rosie, the badge told Thea. There was a heart drawn over the letter i. One pencil drooped and fell onto Thea’s desk with a clatter that made heads turn. Rosie tried to pull the other pencils out, but one snagged and hung precariously, dangling over Thea’s notes until she reached out, carefully unwound the hair where it had caught on the metal part of the eraser and tapped Rosie on the shoulder.

‘Thanks,’ Rosie whispered, taking the pencil from her. She smiled.

Thea was somewhat startled when she felt her desk tremble as a scuffed boot came into view. The woman calmly climbed over the desk, apologizing as she sent other people’s notebooks and pens sliding to the floor, and plonked herself down next to Thea.

‘Hi!’ She smiled brightly. ‘I’m Rosie.’

Heads turned again. Thea felt the heat in her cheeks, but the lecturer continued, oblivious.

‘The technology each of you is currently wearing is light years ahead of any rival company. The leaps we are making …’ The lecturer glanced sideways as if someone was watching from the wings. He coughed.

Rosie spoke to herself, ‘Hello, Rosie, nice to meet you. My name’s’ – she took a look at Thea’s badge – ‘Thea – ooh, nice name.’

This time, Thea was almost sure the lecturer frowned at her. She slouched in her seat. Rosie yawned dramatically, ‘Are you bored yet?’

The lecturer raised his voice. ‘But, hey, I am jumping ahead of myself a bit here, aren’t I? Let’s get back to the here and now, hmm? As a society we are now realizing that sleep, once denigrated and dismissed as a weakness almost, could actually hold the key for mankind’s next evolutionary leap.’

Thea yawned and black blobs drifted across her vision. Eye floaters. An optician had explained that the jelly substance in some people’s eyes could become more liquid and then bits of it could clump together to do laps across their vision. ‘No need to worry,’ her optician had reassured her. It had certainly sounded worrying. Her eyeballs were literally melting and bits of them were indulging in a spot of synchronized swimming but that, apparently, was okay.

She yawned again and tried to hide it this time in case she offended the lecturer. The first few nights in a new place were always tough: pillow too soft, then too hard, duvet too warm, then too cold and there was always a light blinking somewhere. It made holidays such a joy.