Experience, he realised, was a game, repurposed for the soul. A trick, a useful tool for pinching coherence. And none of it mattered. Which is why all of it, all of it, mattered so very, very much.
It had happened more slowly than anyone had thought. At first, people were fascinated. Gripped and moved by the bundle of energy that announced itself warmly on a quiet corner. People would come and sit and watch as it pulsed and glowed, flecks of debris and dead leaves picked up by its wake, swirling around its centre. Beautiful.