Pretty soon now I shall have to get up. I shall get out of this bed and resume my life.

I wonder if I shall ever see her again, and I realise that I scarcelly care. I can feel the sheets beneath me, and the cold air on my chest. I feel fine. I feel absolutely fine.

I feel nothing at all.

Neil Gaiman, Smoke and Mirrors, "How do you think it feels?" (objectivos)