I'm swinging, my hands tightly holding onto the rings hanging from a tree. I turn, I tumble, try to get my feet in the rings. Which is hard because I'm wearing shoes with wooden soles. I'm a child, but I don't feel like one. But I'm swinging anyway, because that's what children do. The sky turns and the clouds go everywhere. I hang my head back and feel my hair brush my shoulders. I laugh because it feels nice. I prefer hanging here looking at the sky to standing on the ground. I always look either up to the sky or down to search for insects. When I find insects I pick them up to examine them carefully. I prefer this to looking people in the face, or worse, talk to them. I'm always afraid to give the wrong answer when people ask me questions. Besides I'm so dreamy I don't always hear what they say. I try to get into the sky. The sky is now in my head. This is how I like it! Can't it always be like this? No words, just cloud shaped images.

Someone calls my name. I let go of the rings. I feel the ground beneath my feet. I'm back on earth. I shiver. I feel dizzy. I try to keep the sky in my head. It's hard.

I walk up to the big barn next to the tree. I hear music coming from inside. Someone calls my name again.

I enter the barn. The music grows louder. It's a farmer's barn but it's filled with objects. My eyes have a hard time adjusting to the sudden darkness. I haven't been here before. Dim light falls through the small windows. I recognise some of the large objects. They're machines. I walk around. Then I see where the music comes from. Two gigantic black speakers are standing in the middle of the barn. They're the biggest speakers I've ever seen. My father made them. I vaguely discern him and my two brothers by the speakers. I walk up to them. My father shouts: "listen to this!!" and he turns the volume up. I feel the movement of the wind of the sound coming from the speakers right into my stomach. I'm literally blown away.

"WELCOME MY SON!

WELCOME, TO THE MACHINE!"