He pressed his palms flat against the cool metal of the seminar table, feeling the micro-vibrations travel up his forearms. The table was an extension of his nervous system now. He focused on it. Steel. Welded in 1987. Legs slightly uneven by 0.4 centimeters.
The fluorescent lights of the Université de Montréal’s psychology department hummed a low B-flat. To anyone else, it was just the sound of cheap infrastructure. To Gabriel, it was the off-key chorus of a city’s worth of faulty ballasts, and it drilled into his temples like a dentist’s drill. syndrome du savant autisme
“You saw the error in the professor’s premise in 0.3 seconds,” Chloe said. It wasn’t a question. She didn’t look at his eyes, but at his hands, which were now fluttering, counting invisible beats. “But it takes you ten seconds to form a sentence to explain it.” He pressed his palms flat against the cool