I had a day to go and I went with it. There was no plan. There was an outline, one which I could follow, floating, gently. There was no goal, no prey to be caught. I was not a circling raptor, a vulture, a shark, a big cat poised to spring. I was not on my guard. This was something else. I was on a journey. On my way home, I thought. I was travelin

I remember it as a world with almost no depth of focus; not like in a dream, more as if part of one’s consciousness has been closed off: you are awake, you are conscious of the world around you, you are vision and hearing, a kind of listening post, but where only the nearest things are perceptible, everything else recedes into the background and fa

The unthinkable is something we carry with us always. It has already happened: we are improbable, we have emerged from a cloud of unbelievable coincidences. Anyone would think that this knowledge would equip us in some small way to face the improbable. But the opposite appears to be the case. We have grown accustomed to living with that knowledge w

It was a collection of movements, an accumulation of details, of the day's patterns, and all of it folded into an incessant questioning, a logical grinding, a cool fever, a free-range brain activity, busy organizing and rationalizing without any help from me, rather like data processing, conducted without any human interference. There were parts of

Our investigation was constantly changing, rather like a dance that led us around the room, an innocent and somewhat clumsy knowledge polka, a wonderment waltz, a blithe ballet of discovery, a hectic tap dance between facts and observations, a questing tango by two dancers who scoured the room, never looking for an exit or a place to rest.