Something was drifting, suspended by invisible wires, spinning and falling and floating. It had been drifting for some time and then not, and then for a forever before that; it had drifted, and then everything pushed around it and it became part of something bigger, and then the sky had opened up and it had been bathed in light. Darkness clenched around it and then relaxed, things brushed against its jagged skin and prodded it and smashed it from other things but it had held on to and become itself, and then the dark and light interwove into a stunning patchwork it could not see and it fell and rose and flew.