In the aftermath of their flight from the house, Paul drifts within himself like a mote of dust suspended in still air. He exists between his breaths in near-perfect meditative abstraction, all sensory awareness without thought. He could catch a knife thrown at him like this, and not falter in his control. Consciousness-without-consciousness is a refuge he has never hidden in so completely.
That is the only reason he doesn't flinch when the truck veers close enough to a pane of glass for him to catch his own eyes and find them, instead, no longer so.]
just nod if you can hear me (Oscar)
In the aftermath of their flight from the house, Paul drifts within himself like a mote of dust suspended in still air. He exists between his breaths in near-perfect meditative abstraction, all sensory awareness without thought. He could catch a knife thrown at him like this, and not falter in his control. Consciousness-without-consciousness is a refuge he has never hidden in so completely.
That is the only reason he doesn't flinch when the truck veers close enough to a pane of glass for him to catch his own eyes and find them, instead, no longer so.]