Oiled staff cutting the air, double handed, single handed. Impact and sigh, repair and return. Vibrations, electricity, air moving, liquid pushing and hairs following. Sat opposite the device I can, if I allow myself the indulgence, see the beginning of the process. Tissues pull membranes into new but familiar shapes.
Minds eye does the rest.
Looking down into my own well it can be viewed with a degree of separation that surprises. Hands before me, palms up, contractions and I have fists without thinking. Slow relaxation and my hands are back. Hands, now palms down, rest on an Oak box. I have not measured the box and have not been told its dimensions however I know them entirely.