A ball that plays what it gathers
stroke the stage to roll the ball that way · it gathers what is smaller than itself, and grows · what it carries strikes the ground once a turn, and sounds · roll into a column of light to take its power · a thing in gold changes the loop for the run · press and hold to slow it · the arrow keys push it too
A ball rolls over a dark meadow drawn in lines of light, and whatever it rolls over that is smaller than itself, it takes up and carries. It begins as a marble among pebbles, under flowers that stand over it like trees, and it grows by what it gathers: past bushes and haystacks, then trees and houses, then towers, until it is the size of the hills it rolls on. The ground is drawn only by its contours, and the ball is the lamp, so things wake into colour as it comes near. Everything it carries strikes the ground once a turn, and each thing has a voice, a click for a pebble, a bell for a flower, a thud for a tree, a toll for a tower, lower the bigger it is. So the ball plays a loop one turn long, as fast as it rolls, made of what it took. Here and there a thing stands in gold, and taking one changes how the loop is played for the rest of the run: a windmill puts every strike on a beat, a belfry adds a drone on the root, a drum sounds every voice twice a turn. Each strike leaves a mark and sends a ring of light out over the ground, and the ball leaves a bright track behind it, printing on it what it has rolled through and gathered, like a seal, a turn after it took it. When it can grow no more the view rises to show the whole track from above. Then the ball is cut open like a tree and played like a record, a needle going from the first pebble at the middle to the last tower at the rim, and it begins again as a marble on a new meadow. Stroke the stage to push the ball, hold to slow it, and turn the sound on to hear it.