Oof. That old feeling again: like every single nerve softly seizing up, at the same exact time that a floor drops away in your chest and all your blood decides to stop and run in the opposite direction.
Or maybe that's just the rush of everyone drifting past me as I tread water in a swiftly flowing river with no shores in sight.
"She's posting all the time, but the boards are down, it's a burned-out building. He's spending all his time on his back, staring at the ceiling."
I'm with that. I'm with them. You're not. You are, alive, damnit.
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