June 4, 2011 § 2 Comments
It appears with more and more clarity like the recognition of a taste or a scent. Every word, gesture, idea or action that seems to have occured since she awoke exists only in her imagination, co-existing alongside the content of an imagined day ahead. Even that which she calls now is unreal, for it vanishes in the grasping. So, nothing is real, she admits, and sanity floods the moment, like a fluid rush, membranes disolving.