'From the black, freefalling nothingness the voice emerges with an absolute American calm. That television-friendly NASA cadence of confidence: everything is A-OK. The pilot speaks soothingly about the turbulence. The muttered ‘motherfucker’ at the end of the transmission makes Keith blink, although it doesn’t destroy his confidence. The lights flicker back to life as the plane continues to vibrate. He isn’t feeling any fear. If anything, he’s bored. Julia can go on and on when the subject is her soul. She believes in the sacred spaces of her inner life, and within the confines of their airplane seats there’s no escape. ‘The best thing about this dream is that it was weird in that great way, where you’re almost thinking while you’re asleep, this is so cool it’s like a film by Buñuel.’ (Introduction)
