The Sartre Mechanism short.
It was the first day of the winter when a friend invited me to witness the completion of a recent project.
Crouched over a heap of cogs, she did not look over as I hung my snow-covered coat on something that, by the look of it, might very well be a time machine. A distracted gaze turned for a moment, perhaps to make sure that I did not break anything as I navigated the busy studio.
What I first perceived as a pile of junk turned out to be an intricate clocklike mechanism; where the needles would have been, a small hand rested at the end of a short metallic arm.
My friend held a minuscule weight above the tiny hand, before carefully laying it onto its opened palm. Whirring and clicking, a second arm emerged and plucked a gear out from its own ticking body and laid it back into the toolbox at its side. In controlled gestures, activated by the weight, tiny arms dismantled bolts and screws, while carefully putting them in that toolbox, gradually taking the casing of the mechanism apart, leaving its core exposed.
I stared in silent awe, at the busy mechanical concerto playing its own requiem. The arms eventually began to unbuilding the core, growing forever weakly as it dismantled the remaining components, moving them back into the box. This obscene ritual of disembowelment and exposé on pointlessness ended as the tiny arms and the weight had fallen back into the toolbox.
Written by Voidshaper & Neauoire.