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I have walked along the shape of this thing.
Taken notes.
It is obviously a loop. Anybody who also examined it would say the same. A coercion of time to fold in upon itself.
It is something... I'm not sure how to explain it.
The edges of it seemingly revert your path to its center. If you stray too far off, you will be spit out the opposite side again.
You can walk it to and fro, forwards and backwards, it makes no difference, and aside from a bit of wear in parts, I would say that it was an "infinite" pattern.
The path is glassy, full of streaks of light, impossible to note each glimmer. Some parts shine a bit cleaner than others.
The cracks of it are a completely different color entirely. Some of them glow a radioactive pink; they emit the faintest screech when stepped on.
A blue sludge emerges when others are stepped on. Others may play a small melody, a mixture of a piano and a chime.
For there to be so much damage considering, there is no foot traffic or weight bore into it at any point.
Every third pass or so I walked the orbit, I would watch a plasticky strand, impossibly thin, pop! Pop itself free, like the sound of a rubber band snapping, and it floated in the ether, the rust of space dust ground off. It was a faint smell, not unlike your favorite incense.
And, well, I guess I wonder how long I've been walking. I somehow haven't needed to eat, drink, rest... but I feel as though maybe I don't? Like, I don't need to, that is, anymore.
I feel like maybe I had a life before this. I vaguely remember thinking about it before I started walking. That if I started maybe I could at least ask where I was? Like, am I dead? Is anyone worried? Does someone miss me? But I don't know if I can muster to care anymore? Those thoughts faded away? And I'm left here walking this path, and I forgot everything before I began to even notice the cracks, the little strands that pop! And... it's kind of okay I think?
And yeah, it's doubly weird, because I began to talk to myself, and that was good. I almost thought, like, that normal people talk to each other, right? And there's nobody here, so I thought what do I even do?
And I started narrating something, like at first what I was doing, then it became TO me, right? And eventually I began talking to myself about the strands blowing in the space wind? They each had such different personalities and I'm not so surrre how I even contained so many ideas?
Like, maybe they are real? What if that's true? They feel so real to me now, closer than I ever remember being to anyone, anything!
There are these two rocks in love? They're so pretty. I see them every fifth cycle, and they've changed clothes, gone on dates and had a whole part of life while I was continuing on my merry way, it's so beautiful, I hope they have kids soon? Is that weird to think? I don't... think so?