"You know... Beyond the clouds... What's after?"
I knew the answer.
It was right there - sitting at the front of my mind, fully formed, ready to be spoken. A memory I hadn't remembered in quite some time but that had never faded, never softened into the blurred approximation that old memories usually became. It was sharp. Vivid. Complete. I could feel the words forming in my throat, feel my mouth beginning to shape the first syllable.
And then something stopped me.
I don't know how to describe it. It wasn't pain. It wasn't a thought, or a hesitation, or the normal process of deciding not to say something. It was physical - a sensation in my throat, just below the jaw, as if something had closed around it from the inside. Firmly enough to hold the words where they were and prevent them from traveling the last few centimeters from my vocal cords to the open air.
An invisible hand. That was the closest comparison I could find, and it wasn't close enough.
