from "Le Sens du Combat" by Michel Houellebecq.

The swallows take their flight, skimming the waves slowly, then fly in a spiral into the warming atmosphere. They do not speak to humans, for the humans remain stuck on the earth.

The swallows are not free. They are conditioned by the geometry of their repeated orbits. They slightly modify the angle of attack of their wings to describe spirals that grow further and further apart in relation to the blueprint of the earth’s surface. In short, there is nothing to be learned from swallows.

Sometimes, we would come back together in the car. Over the immense plain the sunset was enormous and red. Suddenly there was a quick flight of swallows and its surface was sliced. You shuddered, at that moment. Your hands were tight on the snake-skin cover of the wheel. So many things could, at the time, make us part.