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Das ist eine Übung auf Deutsch und,

Laying on the floor, strands of orange fuzzy carpet intertwined with my fingers, eyes wide open, unmoving. Haven't blinked in 6 minutes and 45 seconds. 46 seconds, a rectangle of dim orange light bathes my bare outstretched legs. 7 minutes, 10 seconds, I am paralyzed but so alive. The heath of the August night fades away as The Universe...

Tiny clouds of probability swirl around, going from left to right, up and down, with uniform speed. I do not know where they are going, but it must be somewhere important. They all look the same but they've told me to identify each of them, spot the ones that are different.

The blackthorn is in bloom and its smell strangles me, it barges in and scratches my trachea just like the thorns of its twigs scratch my left cheek. The prickles leave behind bright red slivers of memory murmuring like the Carpathian springs.