When Raman lifted his eyes from the book, he could see from the train window a colony of herons—their wings shimmering in sunlight—floating in a formation as if controlled by an invisible Remote.

He was glued to the sight when the train suddenly entered a tunnel plunging everything in dark so impenetrable that he found himself struggling for breath.

A couple of minutes in the tunnel seemed like an hour.

He felt his eyes looking desperately for a streak of light, when the scene of the birds circling the sky in the brilliant sun flashed into his mind.
Instantly he was able to draw a long deep breath into his lungs.

When the train finally came out of the cave, his eyes were still closed, dwelling on a fleet of feathers fringed with catchlight.

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