He worked furiously to keep the balloon afloat, rushing about here and there gluing on bits of canvas to the many holes that riddled its exterior. Inside the balloon was only hot air, of course, agitated gases he replenished frequently using a burning brazier tethered to the underbelly of the ungainly airship.
He dared not stray too high, into the realm of the gods, where the strong and mighty winds live, out of fear they would rend the balloon fully and send him plummeting to the ground. He avoided straying too low, however, into the realm of demons, where the base and greedy urges wallow, out of fear he’d heed the siren-calls of booish pleasure and forfeit the sacrifices he’d made to lift off in the first place.
For a brief moment, his airborne mount stayed level, nary a leak sprung, nary a meter gained or lost. As he loosened the knots and closed the gates, the contraption in which he had for so long ridden suddenly vanished. And he floated there - serene, unmoved, filled with nothingness.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
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