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The horizon of experience was a restriction. The connection to others was a restriction. The old man had missed the point. Tom had used words in ways that most people could not, playing games of gematria until the world said what he wanted it to.
Even this, third person, was an artifice. A desperate means to posession by dissociation,
a past narrative become a mantra anew. Unclarity is key, here. An animal is not a being,
being more thing, and things have no purpose but what a being imbues them with.
So, he survived.
Not a word many would use.
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Life at number 4 Privet Drive was not pleasant. No, that does not begin to explain things.
From around 1982, every resident at number 4 Privet Drive had come to the tacit understanding that any thing owed its thingness to distinctions. This understanding was reached in bits and pieces, taking form in the traditional way, through repeated application of pain.