22 The world isn’t just black. The world isn’t here. I can’t hear anything. I can’t smell anything. I don’t have any awareness of my body, not even things like my face or the top of my head. Because of this lack of body sensation, I also can’t tell where I am in relation to anything else, nor if I’m lying down or standing up. Nothing. I can best describe this feeling as a sort of floating sensation, though that’s a crude approximation, since when you float, you know exactly where you are. You just feel weightless. Whereas the best way to describe my current state would be as nonexistent. Did the knife kill me? What I feel is how a disembodied ghost might feel, if such a being existed. But that’s silly. I couldn’t have died from the knife wound. That’s not how getting killed in the Quiet

