station in mind 

station in mind

Ansel allowed the last crumbs of the cookie to melt away in his mouth
as he pondered Winslow's question.

"I believe..." he began, then stopped as he noticed Winslow fading
slowly away before his eyes, Cheshire-Cat-like. The kite hung
suspended in the air.

"Good," came Winslow's calm, disembodied voice. "That's an excellent
start."

The writers, yoga positioners, and hash-brown eaters and slingers all
looked at Ansel expectly.