Why Is Hectopascal Important In Meteorology?

"This is a notice regarding proper use of the air conditioning. Please sign to acknowledge receipt." My six-year-old son stood there with a stern little frown, slapping a sheet of paper down in front of me. I glanced at the page. Written in colorful marker were several neatly listed "charges." The whole thing felt absurd. When I did not respond, he pointed at the paper like a tiny adult. "Mom, you didn't turn the air down in time yesterday. That could've affected my health. It was very irresponsible." I looked toward my husband, who had just gotten home from work, hoping he would say something, anything, in my defense. Instead, he snatched up the paper and slapped it down on the table, his voice sharp. "Can't you be more attentive? Our son's health comes first. If you can't even handle something this simple, what kind of mother are you?" With someone backing him up, our son's eyes immediately reddened. He burst into tears. "Mom doesn't love me!" The two of them, playing judge and jury, left me suddenly breathless. "Fine," I said at last. "If I'm such an unfit mother, I'll leave. Let your father find you a new one, someone who knows how to set the air conditioning properly."

Reaching adulthood, Pax then ends up in Chicago being an unregistered and unknown chemist living in a place resembling a garage; not planning to change anything of his lifestyle, until he met someone who was able to help him with an unknown chemical substance made only in his knowledge. In cause of his mental incapacity at several points of his living, the said project resulted in a disaster, causing some of its built evaporated elements open to other people without their awareness of the possibility of obtaining them. With that supposed substance running around within the air, it then goes in the way of people who are proved worthy of them to be obtained. Scattered along the country, they find their way to each other, desperate to learn control with what they have possibly acquired.

My older sister Katie said she missed me and requested I visit her. The second day at her place, the apocalyptic heatwave arrived. I fought tooth and nail in the supermarket for food and coolant—she told me I'm shameless and have no self-respect. I offered a high price in the community chat for supplies—she sneered at me and said that anything stored for so long must be disgusting, contaminated by bacteria. Yet, she threw herself into the arms of the man living across the hallway just for a bit of food. While cuddled in his arms, she watched me die in the heatwave. When I opened my eyes again, I heard her on the phone saying she missed me. Well, keep on missing me!

A heatwave swept across the surface of the Earth right after the end of boot camp. Temperatures rose to 200 degrees Fahrenheit, and all electronic items stopped functioning. Even our water source had all dried up. I was lucky that I never liked the taste of water in college, and I always had five boxes of bottled water standing by in my hostel room. If I rationed my water, I could sustain myself until help arrived, but our instructor suddenly requested everyone to hand in their water to be managed by one person. "We're a group, and it's only by working together that we will be able to sustain ourselves until help arrives! Whoever doesn't hand in their bottled water will be considered the common enemy!" I had no choice but to hand in all the water I had. However, the instructor was not fair with his water rationing. He would give the women one bottle a day, while I only had one bottle cap's worth of water. "You're a man, aren't you? It doesn't matter if you have less water. Do you really want to fight the fairer sex for a little water? The ladies should be pampered like princesses. Can't a man like you bear some responsibility to take care of them?" I wanted to argue with him, but my girlfriend, who was also my childhood sweetheart, helped the instructor tie me up and flung me under the sun to be burned to death. When I opened my eyes next, I had returned to the day before the heatwave. This time, I moved all of my water into a cave and watched gleefully as that lecherous instructor got thrown under the sun by his pampered female trainees to be burned.

When a hurricane comes, my husband, the leader of a rescue team, takes away everything we've stored at home so he can save his true love. I plead, "Leave some for me. I'm pregnant." He shakes me off. "How can you be so evil? The windows at Lottie's home have already been blown away. Don't tell me you're going to sit by and watch her die! She's not like you—you're not afraid of everything. The hurricane will be over soon, so you won't need any of this stuff." After that, he leaves without another look back. What he doesn't know is that there's also a crack in our home's windows.

When the heatwave apocalypse hit, the world turned into a literal oven. It was 140 degrees outside. The water dried up, and the power grid went completely dead. We had no choice but to make a run for the underground bunkers. Luckily, my boyfriend, Hudson, awakened ice powers. He is a man of few words, but he caters to my every whim. One day, I was being my usual spoiled self, begging him to waste his precious energy to make me some ice cream, when a sudden memory flooded my brain. It was a plotline. I realized I was living in a romance novel, and I was nothing but the useless, high-maintenance side character. All beauty, zero survival skills, and a constant burden to Hudson. According to the plot, he would eventually leave me behind, and I would die a gruesome death at the hands of some wasteland raiders. Meanwhile, Hudson would meet the REAL female lead—a woman as strong and capable as him. Terrified, I decided to pull away and stop weighing him down. But I didn't expect that the moment I distanced myself, Hudson would snatch the back of my neck, kissing me with a vicious, uncharted possessiveness. "Are you bored of me? Trying to shake me off?" he growled against my lips. "I'll never let that happen."