Standing on the top of a huge tower, a man threw a ball. It went hitting many walls... It's journey was quite pleasure at the begin no load, however it landed on the hard road. Sounded a pop, but it did not stop. It rolled and rolled on... In the huge world, it got lost, no matter which city. It is a ball and that is its identity. In attempt to find the end, it's surface was blackend. Yes it was exhausted, but didn't stop... It meet many people on its path, however it was travelling alone, finnally found a shelter, pheraps, a stop or a goal. Wait... Somebody picked it and threw it again... But still energetic her soul, it was rolling again and again. To find the goal, it roll the lane, didn't stop, even if landed on a plain.