It must have felt like being hit by the rounded front of a giant treetrunk that’s been swung through the air at you without you knowing it was coming. It must have felt like being punched by a god. That’s when she sensed, like something blurred and moving glimpsed through a partition whose glass is clouded, both that love was coming for her and the nothing she could do about it. The cloud of unknowing, her mother said in her ear. Meets the cloud of knowing, George thought back.
