DN - Flying

I can see the structure behind reality. Okay, not see, precisely. But it’s there. An infinite lattice of matter and energy, of thought and form. It spreads across the universe—it is the universe. I imagine it like a fine mesh net, searingly bright with coiled potential, and all the things in life little more than tangles in the light. The lattice gets twisted up into the shape of water and trees and people and music. As I imagine grasping it with my mind, my feet leave the ground.

Flying takes concentration, but I think I’m getting better at it. With my legs crossed and my textbook in my lap, I hover above my bed and read my homework assignments. It’s difficult. When I start getting into the assignment, I tend to wobble and sink. When I’m steady in the air, I’ll find that I’ve gotten to the end of the page and can’t remember a single thing I’ve read. But I’m getting better. For a few paragraphs at a time I can read, understand, and stay up in the air, too. I’m better than I was last night. Tomorrow I’ll be better still.

- Dreadnought, Chapter 4