“Chad’s great gift was that of being able to contain and almost completely suppress that internal sense of weightlessness and panic that he kept in an isolated chamber somewhere in the nether regions of his gut. This time the panic was a category hitherto unknown to him . . . this was panic on stilts and steroids. This was a prison riot. The noise from that isolated chamber down below grew more insistent. A metal cup raked across the bars. Guards! And somewhere farther up, unseen clammy hands were industriously attaching a nylon strap and winch around the upper portion of Chad’s chest and ratcheting it tight” (Evangellyfish, pp. 34-35).
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