They'd leave me to my own devices, and with a lot to think about, but I did have something to distract myself. I'd move on to the next task in my schedule, the large lanky piston. I'd stand before it, patient, and as I took one deep breath after another, it would come alive.
It dragged its large head back and up off the ground. Then, within a moment's notice, it was barreling towards me like a speeding bullet. Already inches away from killing me. I'd do what was expected of me, but not quite elegantly.
I mustered all the strength I could in my hands, and instead of pushing the thing off to the side–redirecting the force– like I should have, I punched it. I did technically do it, but I couldn't bring myself to be calm.
