57 She was still and silent in a world so blue it pushed out any other thought. The memory of things not this vibrant hung just out of reach; the awareness of all she could not recall hovered there, impossible to grasp. The strain of trying was exhausting, so she stopped. Nothing changed perceptibly, but the particular shade became gradually darker, as if she sunk deeper below the ocean or the light above was drawn slowly, delicately from the world. It made her feel cold, but not uncomfortable. Her fingers seemed impossibly far away. A jellyfish appeared before her, or maybe it had always been there. A beautiful pale orange, tendrils stretching off into obscurity, pulsing like a heartbeat, buffeted by a light breeze and swaying. She lost herself in its motion, eyes going unfocused as sh

