7
What I did was not exactly how I imagined mind reading—not that mind reading is something I imagined much. The experience was like some kind of virtual reality, only more intense. It was like I was the pothead guy. I felt what he felt. Saw what he saw. I even had his memories, and they came and went as though they were mine.
But at the same time, I was also myself. An observer of sorts. I experienced two conflicted world views. On the one hand, I was Nick, feeling high, feeling numb, feeling dumb, but at the same time, I was myself, able to not lose my own consciousness. It was a strange merger.
I want to do it again—as soon as possible.
“Do you want tea?” Eugene asks, dragging me out of my thoughts, and I realize we somehow ended up at the kitchen table.
I look around the room. The
