In a quiet house far from Everwood, a man in his late forties sat meditating on the floor. His eyes were closed, breathing deep and even. After some time, he opened his eyes with a soft sigh and unfolded his legs.
He rose smoothly and headed upstairs to shower and change. Downstairs, his wife waited expectantly in the living room.
As he entered, she greeted him. "All finished with your meditation?"
"Yes, for now," he replied simply.
"I thought we could take an evening stroll together, just the two of us," she suggested hopefully.
But he shook his head. "No, I have things to attend to."
"Please, I think the fresh air would do us good," she pressed gently.
"I said no," he responded firmly, turning away as he did so. A bottle of water then floated through the air into his waiting hand, untouched.
