He cracked the book open. “Describe the structure of the plasma membrane,” the first question demanded.
Maxim sighed. He didn’t just want to copy the bolded text. He closed his eyes and imagined he was shrinking, smaller than a dust mote, diving into a cell. In his mind, the "fluid mosaic model" wasn't just a term; it was a shimmering, oily sea of lipids where protein "icebergs" bobbed lazily. He saw the carbohydrate chains waving like seaweed in the extracellular breeze. He cracked the book open
He closed the book with a satisfying thud . The "answers" weren't just in the back of the book or on a website—they were finally in his head. smaller than a dust mote