During quiet moments, like early in the morning or late at night, as she sat at the table sipping coffee or lay in bed trying to sleep, listening to a train, she felt like a portal through which incoherent and indecipherable transmissions from undiscovered dimensions were emitted.
His daily life-experience was best described by a persistent thought which tried to filter its way through his head as he walked along Michigan Avenue, how each car in this morning's rush hour seemed to flow directly into him and disappear within the dark, echoing forests of his past instead of harmlessly passing by him, as if he were a portal from which nothing ever returned, though the image of every object hovered before his face, in his wide line of vision, as if on the event horizon of a massive black hole, making it difficult for him to see what was coming and where he was going.
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