He was pulled through, not like falling, but like being a comma sucked into a sentence.
Frustration boiled over. He slammed the laptop lid shut. The room went dark. But not completely. The blue glow bled through the seams of the laptop, seeping into the corners of his room like a liquid ghost. Then, the screen flickered on by itself.
He stepped onto the bridge of squares. It held.
Leo closed his eyes. He stopped trying to calculate . He started telling a story.