Faintly embarrassed now--he seldom talked about his odd gifts--Tony looked down at his hands on the table. But he continued to describe the little he could see. It was still, like a photograph, but he could see more than just the outside. It was a very odd feeling. He was used to seeing places alive and moving, as they were from moment to moment.

"I can see a wall of pictures over a mantle. Are they your family? The lawn is so green, like summer." He didn't want to get too personal, but he burned with curiosity to know if he was right. "The furniture gleams so brightly I can almost smell the polish." But of course, he couldn't really smell it. "A very nice house."