All in Existential
You don’t recognise the car. It’s cool inside, cold even - the air conditioner’s blowing so hard you can feel it against your skin, but you can’t hear it. Everything is silent, in fact. If it wasn’t for the scenery moving past the window, you’d think the car was stopped, the engine dead. Perhaps it’s an electric car?
The shimmering black dunes surrounding the little village seemed to take in the sunlight with an endless hunger, and at night mirrored the stars overhead as faint flickers of light drifted over the sands. But the treacherous sands were not the only danger, for iron wolves maraudered over the desert and often in the night a child would vanish into the shadows, never to be seen again.
Molten metal surged, lit by the incandescence of its own heat. The heart of the planet pulsed and roiled, following strange fields and courses invisible to the naked eye.
