Ping’s dust mote swirled in the flickering light of the projector. After a few seconds, he coalesced and took his familiar form.
Mara tried to stand up, staggered a step and changed her mind. She sat back down on the cement floor, not even trying to locate her mat.
“Are you okay?” Ping asked. “You look pale.”
“No, I am not okay. I feel like something just sucked the life out of me. What the hell just happened?”
“I’m not sure. That did not work out the way I thought it would,” he said.
