The sensation of flesh faded. Gravity and weight, clothes and skin, it all became background noise, as white and gold filled his eyes. He looked aroun..., and watched as the club disappeared from sight. His girlfriend was behind him, and a little ways behind her, was Matt, Art, and Natasha, but it was hard to see them. Hearing them was difficult. Smelling them was impossible.He moved forward. He knew to do that. They were crossing a wall that separated the physical from the spiritual, that. Without waiting for a response, Casey boldly pushed the door open a little more. Pierson was a stout, unattractive man of about forty five. He had a slightly pockmarked face, thin cruel lips and an obvious potbelly. A balding head of hair and thick tortoise shell glasses made him look even older than he actually was, but he had the self confident air of the truly arrogant. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, especially with women.?Sheila, that you?? He turned his head and asked in a. More

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