Even the sphere looks like it’s contemplating life.

The sphere stood alone on the grass, as if dropped there by a celestial hand. Its surface shimmered under the sun, every etched line catching the light in a way that seemed deliberate. I walked around it slowly, tracing the patterns with my eyes. It was both ancient and modern—like something timeless had been translated into metal. A few people sat under nearby trees, their chatter distant but comforting. The air smelled faintly of eucalyptus, and I wondered if the sphere had a story or if it simply existed to make us wonder.