Every time he went out there, it was so nauseous that it rocked the pit of his stomach. The sharp acidic woe-begotten first and last world.

He cycled past the crows that pecked for morsels by the wayside. He could imagine them saying: "Black! You don't know the meaning of the colour! Can you? Dare you fathom the black in the depths of our wings? Caw! Caw! Don't look, you may mistook. One glimpse and we're off! If we don't see each other at Crowcough Manor don't break the spanner on a mechanical mind to find us!"