Adrien walked towards the wall - one step, another, then he breathed out: a curve appeared beneath his outstretched fingers, precisely picked out of all possibilities like the perfect word to define a thought. In crisp detail, he saw his own arm following the shape - veins and tendons hiding and resurfacing under the skin of his own hand, casting shadows onto each other in motion, knuckles highlighted by the midmorning sun, his reality intense, as if captured through the mind of a painter or a poet, his eyes outside of his own body, his body outside of himself. And yet, he recognized at the edge of his incredulous amazement, and yet it was him at the center of the action - him, not someone else; this expression of beauty was flowing from his core, the motion encompassing more than movement, shaking his being to his foundation, stirring something within his throat that made him want to release a scream.

He breathed out as the circle completed itself, then in again.