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5x+3 = 15-80x"Now Joce, there are different steps to solving this correctly, however, I'll teach you the easiest in all algorithm - funny thing is, that's the one I use most; the simplest method."She nodded."Okay, I'm all ready.""The first step is to picture the above as people-""As what?!" It's worse than I imagined, Maths is crazy!"Yes Jocelyn; people. There are two groups here - the singles and the married."He watched to see her reactions - satisfactory! - then he continued. "The numbers holding the 'x' are the married, while the single numbers are the?""Singles." She chuckled."Now, we are to sort the married ones to the L.H.S [Left Hand Side (of the '=')] and the single numbers to the R.H.S. Can you identify the married numbers?""Yes, they're 5x and -80x.""Correct! Now we're going to have to move -80x across the equal-to sign. So, in the process of transferring -80x over, it becomes +80x. The signs always changes while crossing. So we have on the L.H.S:"5x+80x.""Yeah," she affirmed, jotting it down."Next, we identify the single numbers.""Uh-huh; they're 3 and 15.""Exactly!"She chuckled again, childishly."You're impressive," he said."Thank you," she replied, curtly."Next, we get +3 to the R.H.S. So what does that make it?""I think it becomes 15+. . . no . . . 15-3, because the positive symbol with the 3 changed into a minus (negative).""Bravo!" he called out, with the voice of an archangel, accompanied by an applaud.She stood up and raised both arms, feeling like Hercules in the Greek Mythology."So, that leaves us with this:"5x+80x = 15-3."Then we solve for both side, individually. 5 added to 80 gives you what?""85-""Now, you drop your 'x' beside it. . . yes, exactly. 3 subtracted from 15 gives?"She did a split-second calculation and said, "12!""Correct! So we have this:"85x = 12"Next, we divide both sides with the coefficient of x (that is, the number holding x)-""Which is 85, right?" she was already getting enthusiastic about Maths. Not so bad, after all."Yes. So that leaves us with this:"85x/85 = 12/85"85 divided by 85 gives you?""One.""Yes. Now, note. 1 beside the 'x' is the same thing as just saying 'x'. So we have just x on the L.H.S. On the R.H.S, however, 12 cannot be divisible by 85, so we leave it that way as a proper fraction. X is, therefore, equal to 12/85:"x=12/85"Ta-da! We've finally found the x.""Yeepeee!" Jocelyn's arm flunged on Anderson. Her chest pressed against his.I cannot, for the life of me, believe this!So he hung in the bearhug, vulnerably.It was a bright day. Laughter and joy filled the air. It was Mr and Mrs Simpson's wedding anniversary. Mr Simpson and Anderson played Beach Ball over a net, and just within sight was Mrs Simpson high on the waves, surfing. She waved at them, and they waved back; all smiles. Then, all of a sudden, another wave swept her off balance. Before the guys could move a muscle, the wave swept her further away from them. The last thing they heard from her was her scream: "Honey!" "Mum!" Anderson screamed out, protectively, only to wake up in his room. It was that dream again, that taunting nightmare that had been replaying the scenario that'd occurred two years ago to Anderson. Some days, Anderson would sleep like a baby, and most. . . He turned the light, over his pillow, on. Tears slipped off his eyes as he stretched his hand and picked the frame beside the clock on his bedside table. He raised it to his f
"But why would you even do that for me? It doesn't make any sense." Thomas' mouth hung open in confusion."Let's just say I'm a very nice guy." Harry smiled."You're kind to someone who committed a near-murder? That doesn't sound nice, unless you're encouraging it." Tom's eyebrow was arched, this time."For the right course, yes," Harry said, pulling the glass of juice before him to his mouth.Tom stared at him over the lunch table, as he listened to Harrison's throat gulping down the juice in one turn, and analysing the information he thought he was getting."So what are you proposing?" he asked as Harry dropped the glass against the table with a thud.Harry arched an eyebrow at Tom, questioningly."I mean - you must want something in return for a good deed, right? It's the I-owe-you-one dilemma; just like in the movies: 'I save your butt, you be my slave.'"Harrison gave out a soft laughter."Please, rephrase," Harry said. "It'
Jocelyn ran her hand through the thick forest on her head. She'd never felt less uncomfortable with herself (appearance) like she did now. She brought out the lip gloss she'd snucked into her bag earlier that day at home.Acknowledging the fact that there was a mutual infatuation between Andy and her brought her the best feeling conceivably - with it's inconveniences."I'm a girl," she whispered to herself. "I've got the hypnotism; but darn! isn't he so cute?" Jocelyn let out a deep breath.After applying some of the gloss to her lips, she caressed them by rubbing both lips against each other, forward and backward.Looking around the restroom, she sighed. It was as though she were expecting to see something. Her eyelashes flapped, meticulously, over her eyes, as she catwalked about the room, eyes fixed to the mirror. Her head wondered from one thought to the other.Just then, the fears popped up. She'd know Andy all her life, literally. He'd never ha
Tom and Harry were going out of class, together. They discussed as they advanced to the locker room. Classes were over. Surprisingly, Tom was very friendly. "See, I'm sorry for how I'd exploded on you, earlier." Harry waved it off. He liked the sound of sincerity he thought he was hearing. "Naw, I understand. We all have our sensitive spots." Wait. . .was that right? He wanted to rephrase that. "Oh, yeah?" Tom turned to him, opening his locker. "And what's yours?" "Maybe you can come over to my house for dinner, what do you think?" Tom pulled out his backpack and looked at the time on his wrist. "I guess so, but I've got to pick my sister from school, then when we're home, I'll help her with her homeworks and see if I can balance the time left." Harry's eyes were wide. "You have a sister?" "Uh-huh," he nodded. "She attends
As they dined in the large dining room, Hanson cracked his voice and began to speak. "Young Simpson, I want to tell you a little story about myself." Andy looked up from his food and smiled, nodding in approval and attentiveness, mouthful. "I have never told anyone this, except my beautiful Elizabeth here," he pointed out. This time, Anderson's curiosity was risen. He knew this was very important, so he gulped the food piled in his mouth, asking, "Then why are you telling me this?" "Because I feel there's an adventure for you in this story, to help you achieve your goals." "Adventure?" "Yes, an adventure. I want you to listen very attentively. My wife and I have considered it, and we've come to agree we can trust you. We can, right?" Andy nodded. "Definitely." The couple smiled and exchanged glances. Andy immediately tapped on his SW to begin recording (this was
Yo guys! Sorry, Andy's not in this one. But I hope you'll like it. Also, don't be confused by the name, "Amanda." One is the mother of Harry, the other is his classmate.– – – –The birds chirped over the window frame, euphoniously. The heatless sun hung delicately in the clear blue sky, while the air smelt nice and cosy. Harry gave himself a big stretch on the bed, with a roar-like yawn. Throwing the blanket off his body, he threw one leg before the other to the ground. He blinked, sequentially, trying to adapt his misty sight to the room. The room was a total mess. Clothes were piled all over his room; trousers slung here and there. He walked to the standing shelf adjacent to his bed and pulled it open. He squeezed his face to see the horrible mess he'd made it. He couldn't make a word out of it, save for one; mess. He dropped his fingers in his head and began scratching hard. "I need to get this room in place!" he sa
Anderson was doing some workouts at the gym, that night, when Harry called him to ask where he was. Andy replied that he was at the gym, and Harry said he was on his way. In less than twenty minutes, Harry'd arrived there to meet his friend all reddened and sweaty, seated with a towel around his neck, a bottle of water in his hand, and his outerwears just beside him on the bench. His mouth was in an evil smirk. As Harry advanced towards him, he observed his surrounding — perfect — save for the misplacement of some machines. "Hi, Anderson." "Hi, Harrison." Harry smiled. "My dear friend has gotten into a fight, which is a rare topic these days. You literally fight once in a year." Andy raised his eyes to him, without a smile on his face. "I've not even said anything, yet." "You don't have to, I know the smile you make when you've kicked someone's butt." Harry watched as Andy uncapped the bottle
Mr Hans — or simply Hanson — had just finished speaking to Anderson that evening on phone. After the call, he sat back to reflect on the day. He'd done lots of work at the workshop, and sold so many stuffs. He smiled, with the feeling of self-accomplishment. Inventing was cool, he thought. You could practically do anything you wanted, as long as you could think it. Hanson's bedroom was practically a lab. His bed was a robot — one could make it warm and cosy by pressing the red button at the base of the bed. One could also make it rotate, just for the fun of "traveling while sleeping", by pressing the green button beside the red. There was a little switch at the head of the bed always on neutral. If you pushed the switch up, it raises the bed up — near-ceiling-length — and if you pushed it down, it lowers the bed. In addition to this, all his windows worked on a remote. The remote also controlled his room cabinets. It had just two buttons