and terror has gripped him. She knows she is going to die, he thinks in horror, she knows her illness is incurable, and that nothing can be done. But she’s not expecting death—that is something else entirely. She knows it with her reason, she can say it in words, write it, but deep down her body, being the animal it is, has not believed it at all. In this sense, death doesn’t really exist, thinks Asher—no one has ever described the experience. It’s always someone else’s death, a stranger’s. There is no sense in being scared of it, since what we would be scared of is something other than what
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