I was stood in the back garden, looking up at the house, which was completely in shadow, all the walls had this fuzzy vibration, a blur underneath a visually sharp rooftop, the bricks were moving like scribbles. There was this consistent rustling sound, and I started to see that the scribbles were bats, nesting around the whole house, shuffled into the gaps where the bricks should have been.
The walls started to expand, the scribbles jittered outward, leaving the roof standing behind, folding over each other and congealing like thick smoke. You could start to see through the mortar grid work, the chrome pipes in the bathroom, the coloured cables climbing upward.