Lloyd Cushenberry lies motionless on his back, fire on his fingertips and a galaxy reflecting from his face, as he ponders the temporary nature of the universe.
In a couple of hours, Cushenberry, a preseason All-SEC center, will crush any man who dares stand in his way, attempting to drive their bodies into the dirt and pancake them as flat as he is in this moment.
For now, however, he’s merely noticing. The feeling of the carpet on his arms. The distractions of his mind. The rise and fall of his breath. The popping of his joints.