He was becoming unstuck, he was sure of that—his bones were no longer wrapped in flesh but in clouds of dust, in hummingbirds, dragonflies, and luminous moths—but so perfect was his equilibrium that he felt no fear. He was vast, he was many, he was dynamic, he was eternal. Then, suddenly, he was falling, not downward but outward, beyond the horizon—as if the earth had an edge after all.
