Imagine the boy’s surprise on discovering that he couldn’t fly despite having been raised by bats. It was the last straw in a long series of straws. He had never been able to pluck flying moths from their boughs of air, and when he fell asleep upside-down he would drop from his perch like a deflated pink grapefruit. So after this final disappointment they asked the boy to leave. He stumbled out of the cave; it was black and damp as a rotted tooth. His pupils were so dilated they eclipsed his whole face. Blinded by sunlight, he navigated by shouts which returned disguised as trees.