You start to shift away. Outward, you think. Your very existence, your mind starts to leech out from your body, slowly.

Your vision distorts with the shift in position, reaching toward the darkness, a realm without clarity. It must be colder there, you think, suddenly, because your body is freezing, every nerve fibre on edge, sparking and exposed.

Someone says something in the background, and that’s when you recognize that telltale sound. The audio is distorted, a far away murmur that cannot have any real significance.

A singular droplet of sweat runs down your protruding spine, and you can feel it trace its melancholic path down each vertebra, each notch handcrafted by your own misery.

“Are you feeling alright?”

A soft voice attempts to pull you from this realm unexplored, but your consciousness fights it. The noise around you is all but radio static, an incomprehensible symphony of otherworldliness.

Perhaps this world isn’t meant for you, but you always seem to return to it.