With a jolt I awoke, heart thumping wildly. Quickly I sorted through a jumble of new intuitions. My heartbeat was so strong I could barely think, but I knew I was being carried again, this time hastily. Another mind, a new one, was clutching me with an odd mix of excitement and panic. And as my heartbeat grew in intensity, so did that other mind’s agitation. It could feel my heart!

  I didn’t care if I was in peril, and only rejoiced in having an effect on the external world. I focused, and briefly felt the other’s heart racing along with mine, galloping side by side.

  The other mind erupted in fear, and a hot flash filled it with pain, and just as quickly as I’d come awake, I slipped back into oblivion.

  I was on a surface, bound tight and down. And, for a long time, I was alone this way, trapped in myself. I grew weary and restless. My thoughts paced around so my mind was muddled and buzzing. In boredom I strummed at my heartstrings, but the reverberation only irritated me more.

  During this period, there was at first an occasional hint of that first mind nearby. It had been so long since it spoke to me. It had suggested there was more to me than there seemed, but I didn’t believe it anymore. I couldn’t do anything but feel its presence, the distant shape of its mind. It didn’t visit me again. Eventually, it left entirely. I knew it wouldn’t return. I was alone.

  …

  I might have gone mad then, if not for the subtle whisper of a new mind nearby. It was light and pleasant, going about with a lilting sing-song. And as it moved around in the distance, I found I could follow it, extend myself ever so slightly towards it, more and more, until I was rarely without its company. I learned, this way, the rudiments of shifting my mind about, and how to focus on another mind. I also learned, though more slowly, that I could exert some influence on the other mind. I could draw it towards me.

  At first, I noticed that when my thoughts were lined up in a direction, I could shape them into a rough line. Then I could cast this line out to try reaching the other mind. Often I missed, but sometimes the line took hold. Then I tugged, trying to draw it near, but always the line slipped loose or broke.

  I began fiddling with my thoughts, trying to make a more solid line, and realized I could twist and harden them. I was struck with an idea, and bent my thoughts into a hook. I inspected my work, and knew that with enough practice, I could shape hooks to catch on specific aspects of a mind.

  At last I felt I had what I needed to properly pull the other mind towards me.

  First, I made the Thought Line, braided strong with clear intent, focused and simple, unfrayed by my own fears of isolation.

  Then, I made the Thought Hook, a hardened twist made to latch on the shapes of that mind.

  Finally, I cast it out, and waited, and felt, and warded off impatience with determination.

  I gave slack when the other mind drew away, and reeled in when it neared. Over and again I did this, each time with the same ultimate result. The other mind would come close, but stop just beyond reach, then become perplexed, confused, and eventually move away.

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  I tried to remain steadfast and patient, but I worried that my efforts were futile. From what I could tell, a barrier surrounded me, past which I couldn’t guide the other mind. And with every attempt, every failure, that mind grew less receptive to my influence.

  Eventually the other mind became wary, and began resisting more than before. So I decided to make an attempt unlike any before. I braided my Thought Line to its utmost strength, and shaped the Thought Hook to catch the other mind’s most prominent and susceptible feature: curiosity. It was not a cold curiosity like that first mind’s, but a warm one, attentive and careful, and I ached to know it more closely.

  The mind neared and I readied, then cast my line, and felt it take hold at once. I pulled, gentle but firm, drawing in without compromise but without threat, insistently polite. It came easily, almost making its way on its own, for we had done this so many times before it was now nearly a habit. Soon we were again at that impasse, where the other mind was each time overtaken with confusion and frustration, and where my influence failed.

  But now would be different. Somehow, I had to make it work. And, this time, I had a plan. I made sure my hook was well anchored, and kept my line taught as I wound it snuggly around my heart. My heart resisted and fought back under the strain of my line, just as I’d hoped. I pulled the line even tighter, and, as expected, my heart rebelled.

  THUMP

  My heartbeat twanged and hummed through the line and into the other mind, and immediately its curiosity flared.

  THUMP THUMP THUMP

  The pulses continued, fighting with vigor, but my line stood fast, and the mind’s curiosity rose to a frenzy. It was trying something, doing things it hadn’t before, searching for a way, a solution to the puzzle. Then, with a sigh, something clicked in place.

  The mind became silent, which I realized wasn’t true silence but a quiet state of awe. It was the relief of a long and troubling problem finally being solved, and it filled me with excitement. The barrier had finally been undone.

  I lifted the thumping of my heart back up to a crescendo.

  THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

  I couldn’t give up now, not even an iota of my influence, or I’d risk losing hold of its curiosity in favor of hesitation and uncertainty. Slowly, the mind came closer than ever. It was being cautious, its awe tinged with trepidation. I increased the pull, held the thumping to its limit. My Thought Line keened with tension, digging into my throbbing heart. My Thought Hook teetered on its hold. And just as I believed I could take no more, that my thoughts would be scattered again, the presence of that mind descended fully upon me.

  I was amazed that it had worked, that I had finally reeled in my quarry. I let drop my line and hook, and my heart sank back down, tired and quiet.

  What- what are you? Asked the mind, and something about its presence gave me the impression it was a friend.

  I don’t know what I am, I need you to tell me. But alas, my thoughts again couldn’t reach out.

  All this time, it was you calling me. But- how?

  I don’t know, please, tell me, what am I?

  I’m sure the master wouldn’t want me to be here. This place- what is this room?

  A master? A forbidden room? We were in a room! At last, hints of the world. But this wasn’t enough, I needed to know more. Please, I need to know more!

  And you, so small, I could fit you in my palm. I’ve never seen a book so small as you. It's quite cute, actually.

  And there it was. A book. I was a book. How silly.