The Plunge

One of my forward right legs has been acting up for quite a while now. I fear it has something to do with the hydraulic cylinders, they have been bad before and I have been warned that they might be in need of fixing, but as long as my rig was moving fine I really paid no heed to this advice. Now I wish I had, I’m becoming a little scared. As I look down at the glowing red hot lava that boils and churns so far below me I am grateful for this great machine that keeps me high above it, so high the ocean of fire that surly exudes a blistering bellow of heat reaches me as an obscure breeze that always whiffs through my hair. With the innumerable spindly legs, that like a spider holds my platform above, my home above, the machine waddles its way through the vast seas of savage flame one prick at a time. For the machine is always moving, changing position, it must, for even though the sophistication of our technology is unparalleled, the strongest alloys cannot stand for long inside such heat, so therefore the machine must elegantly dance across the heated plains by keeping each leg inside the liquid for only a short span before removing it, cooling it, and moving elsewhere. Upon these complicated creations of our own design we each move on our own path through the landscape that varies only in its perception of cruelty, for each person their own craft carries them, always separated it would seem if not for our communication devices that connects us to one and all. These personal platforms also operate every device needed to support the life of a single human; just as the countless legs all converge to keep this single human afloat the many systems work together to keep one alive at such heights. I can’t understand what we would do, or what we used to do if there ever was a time, without this elaborate network of support that sustains my person.

Yes indeed the leg is not working properly, its acting very sluggish, oh—wait. Oh no. It has stopped! What disaster! What will I do? To my radio I go “help me! Can any one help me! Can anyone hear me? Hello!” “Yes we hear you” a voice responds, “we have many others to help, you will have to wait.” Wait I will for what else can I do? I am incapable of any action myself; I was never trained in mechanical hydraulic science. So I will wait for mercy with only hope by my side. Ahhh! What was that great jolt? Oh no, Oh no! The leg has broken! My rig is swaying! Oh the other legs are compensating but it causes them to bend in ways I have never seen them move before, and they are staying down longer in the fire. Oh how much they depended on that one leg, I hope they can do their duties without it. Look at that one—I have never seen a leg in that shape before. Ahhhhhh! I must grab hold on to some thing my machine tilts and I am slipping; the other leg must have broke! The wind grows stronger, why, the wind would get stronger only if I where going down. I am going down! Deathly fear strikes me, it initiates instinct, a frantic survival instinct that lies buried in the core of my human nature having never been called forth until these moments preceding a my inescapable death. I flee to the phone, “SAVE ME! SOMEBODY!” a voice speaks back, “how can we save you?” Then the greatest noise ever to reach my ears is sounded, my machine of life topples, and I am flung headlong into cremation.

Upon entering the sea the cool sensation that met me was to my dismay. I gently drifted down through ocean and open my eyes to undersurface of the liquid. Looking up through the green tranquility I could see other machines picking there way above with their metal legs piercing the surface, striking down through the liquid with great disturbance as if they were spears harming the pervading tranquility with there strikes. Looking up at the black shadows cast by the machines that fell ominously through the green water I have never seen a more sinister sight in my life. As I looked around elsewhere I saw life everywhere! I could not believe all the creatures that grew among the banks and cliffs of the underwater seascape and flew through the water with majestic ease. I then noticed first the phone I still held in my hand from the plunge was dissolving away, along with my ring, and all other metals that I had adorned on my person until I was bare, leaving my flesh unscathed. I could feel my decent slow as a current seized me and gently bore me off in its flow. I tried to direct myself but I couldn’t, I just tumbled about at the whim of the currents, never have I had to use such skill, never had I thought I would need to. Then as I drifted I could see a thing coming towards me, I soon recognized it to be a man, a man who could swim. As he approached the first thing I noticed was the savageness about him, a wild look that could only be refined by the chaos of nature, it startled me and I began to flounder in the water in efforts to propel myself away. Then he seized me, with nothing but tenderness though, and held me in front of his face so our eyes met each other. I looked into his eyes I saw sadness, they mourned for something, as the grief they expressed seem not to well up from inside but pour out unto that which they gazed. Holding both my shoulders he removed one hand traversed between them, then placed two fingers on my forehead, moving them down slowly with a light touch until he came to the center of my chest, at which he laid out his palm outspread upon and with a solemn nod gave me a gentle thrust into the abyss. Ever since I have been drifting.