The Ballast of flattened lead lay amongst the individual grains of scorching sands, seemingly transfixed in this natural
environment; its sides are twisted and contorted inside its earthen tomb. The form begins to retract, and reshape itself; its
dull gray sheen slowly returns to sharp brass saturated in a deep crimson. The long an narrow shape slowly begins to leave
the hostile world, as dozens of tiny pebbles rush to fill the hole it creates; it feels the dry, sweltering heat contrasting with the
cooler crimson coating. The entity begins to spin faster and faster while moving in a diagonal arc, following a trail of tiny red
globes that seem magnetic to its crimson coat. The globes begin to grow and contort as the entity gains momentum, losing
their spherical shape and morphing into random forms. The entity follows the trail entering a hole seemingly made to fit, one
fashioned of tiny cells and rivers of red, and as if intoxicated by the crimson, it increases its momentum. all is not right with
this world, for at its center lay a rift, cells spliced in two, parted crimson and black cotton. As the entity moves through, it
does a great mercy and mends the rift while placing the crimson coat back into its home. The entity departs from the crimson
tide, looking back to see the rift was gone; it felt pleased but at the same time regret for the loss of its coat. the figure
starts to ascend showing its shining bare golden skin to the blazing sun, its speed and rotation both increasing. The entity
reaches the top of its arc, at the peak of its momentum and rotation. What raw energy! This is what it existed for the thrill
of velocity and torque. The arc suggests a larger object bending its will to manipulate its path but that thought leaves its
mind faster than it had entered as it begins to slowly decelerate. As it travels it meets a wave of resistance; strange but it
could now hear the shearing wind as it moves by. Why could it not hear it before? It has no time to answer for it is enveloped
in darkness, its shell grinding against a spiraling pair of ruts. A small opening briefly reveals the outside for a moment,
blocked by a brass case; the case moves into place and the cover slides over the opening. The object is encased in fire or
rather pulled by it. The object slams into the casing, fire turning to powder. Darkness blackened the world.
Time had stopped.
There was stillness.
Then there was not.
The sound of breathing was audible through the black tunnel.
Time was returning to normal. flowing forwards instead of reverse.
The unknown began to hold its breath.
Click.
BOOM.
My final project for College Composition.
guess and see what im talking about!
