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geest en lichaam
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and so he had this job to do, a task to accomplish, a responsibility to fullfill.
he examined the wheel for a moment before he attempted to turn it and imagined it to be hard to turn for it was slightly rusted as if it had been years since anyone turned it. he was right. he couldn't even budge it on his initial attempt.
"fucking shit!" rillianson swore, for there was no one in his presence but a bird in a nearby hawthorn tree eyeing him warily. "i need something to lubricate it or i'm never going to turn the motherfucker." he scanned the surrounding area and found a delapidated garden shed about fifty feet away. it had a whimsical design, as if whoever made it was talented if not a bit eccentric. rillianson barely noticed it, pushing through the door instead, hoping he would find some penetrating oil or wd40 at least.
the structure was old barnwood, but painted, though it was in severe need of a makeover. there were flower boxes sprouting yellow-blooming, feathering weeds that smelled like absenthe.
inside, rillianson halted immediately, as if what he beheld was so arresting and contrary to what he was expecting that he became frozen until the image backwards on his retina made frontwards sense upon the cerebral cortex of his brain.
rillianson entered the shed with a delicate mixture of hushed wonder and a fear that scared him shitless.
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