In Sync with Environment

Florescent lights cover the beige tabletops, his hair shining from its intensity. He constantly moves back and forth, side to side, covering every square inch of the space in front of the table adjacent to the wall. Hands moving in crazy fashion, in sync with his speech, unending talk, consistently taking new roads and side-roads, barely leaving time to replenish the breath to continue with the speech. With notebooks on the tables, some 30 sets of eyes focused upon him, he comfortably talks up a storm.