A floating sensation, as if she had sunk into the clouds.
It was like being drunk, and at the same time like standing on a ship’s deck with sea wind whipping past, her soul spinning dizzily. Along with it came the feverish heat of lying under a quilt while sick. Clearly two discomforts, yet together they turned hazy and dreamlike, strangely pleasant.
Gradually, the pitch‑black field of vision shifted into a chaotic swirl of countless colors, as if several paints had been violently splashed onto a transparent canvas. Then that clear canvas began to ripple like water. The wavering,...
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