John sighed, his mind separating a little, but still feeling as if he was in deep constant contact with her... which made sense.
I can understand that. This world, your memories of it make that clear. This is very odd. I can sense all of your senses, and your power, and you have had a much more fucked up life than I.
He shook his head as he rose, the people around him staring in shock.
"Ah, sorry. Just had a anxiety attack."
He scurried outside.
I think I just managed to screw whatever job it was that the person I replaced had. Where am I? And this is cool, and weird. I don't have to hardly talk to be 'heard' by you, hear you.