[FOR THE FIRST ELEVEN CHAPTERS, PLEASE CLICK ON "SEPTEMBER" IN THE BLOG ARCHIVES ABOVE]
“So, you each have a Space of your own…” I say, changing the subject, “and you need Nirav’s help every time you go from one to the other?”
God help me…
Lifting my head, I’m yet again faced with the light dot. What am I to do with you?
As I marvel at the endless range of beautiful shapes a mere depth of yarn has to offer, I sometimes get a glimpse of an unexpected object, another optical illusion, just by taking a step forward. So far I’ve managed to see a sort of tree – which disappeared as soon as I shifted, and would not reveal itself again, no matter how insistently I tried to retrace my steps – and a breathtaking silhouette of what looks like the statues in Vlad’s Mausoleum, floating upwards as we pass by.
I try to choke a smile. If that’s true, then it’s worked like a charm. Major points for Sam.
A few seconds go by with the both of us floating there, perfectly horizontal, perfectly parallel. The silver Elf's face keeps going from shock to wonder, and it's clear he's not doing anything to hold me there. But then… how? I can’t be doing it either, since I can barely move or think straight. What energy would I be using to fly, if I had none left?