Adventures

A wedding cake of dust billowed around the object, which swirled endlessly into a dark hole. A perpetual musk, created by the toils of a man who had attempted Herculean tasks, surrounded it like a phantom cape. Running his hand across the bottom, he admired the feel of dolphin skin on his palm, also getting the sense of the squid’s tight grip around his hand, while his fingers traversed over crevasses and climbed up hills. Moving up the object, he encountered a canvas dirtied with mahogany, sprayed liberally like a paint gun, with blotches applied unevenly. The webbing above was fortified like castle walls, yet flexible as a yoga practitioner and soft as silk. His fingers were caught in the spider’s web above, and the more he struggled, the tighter the binds became. In particular, an area of the was shaped like handcuffs, being large enough for him to fit his waists through, yet hanging like a noose and growing ever tighter the longer he let it stay. From here, his hands ventured down into the dragon’s den, and rebounded off the ground of the bounce house. The snorts of the sleeping dragon were all he had to nourish his hands, while they explored the insides of a den fully without treasure. Finally, at the lowest point in this den, his hands reached a dead end, and he withdrew, satisfied with his inspection. As his hands ventured out, he unconsciously wrinkled his nose, suddenly annoyed by the odor which was the witch’s concoction. He took one last look at its infinite darkness, contradicted by the streaks of shooting stars flying through, seemingly content to leave it in the same position as it had been in earlier, and squelching his reminiscent thoughts as he left.