You can feel the pull of the crows from outside, the terrifying pull of their circles drawing you from the house and up into the air. They attempt to lift your body apart, split you infinitely across a thousand mirrored edges, but your willpower is intense and you hold yourself together. You are a physical form. You exist. You are one.

Your body is pulled through the rotten, crumbling roof of the house and you are taken up the spiral of crows. Bird after bird within the flock break their pattern and it feels as if the very rules of this indecipherable place are breaking along with them. Within an instant you are without mass. You float in space, surrounded by a sphere of birds. Black feathers, beaks and talons. You close your eyes. You reach a moment of realisation - a point of clarity. This was never a journey in space. This was a journey of the mind. You cannot run to your goal, you must think your way there. Or you could simply think your way back, to before your mistakes and missteps, think your way back and begin all over again.