Writing is a form of creation. Instead of making real, tangible things, the writer creates abstract notions–ideas piled upon one another to create a mosaic. Words interact with words, causing chain reactions.
Example: The ball rolls.
The: used to indicate a certain example of a noun; i.e., ball.
Ball: spherical object, used in the play of children and childish adults.
Roll: to cause to rotate, revolve, in a uniform direction, and by inference move from one location to another.
In this example, images of universality–represented by the round, unending surface of the ball, as well as the the, a word more common than mosquitoes in summer–and flux–represented by the momentous verb rolls–are interposed. This conjures in the reader’s mind a precise-yet-vague vista of motion. We know the ball is rolling, that the ball is spherical, and we can assume that the ball is under the effects of gravity as it has not yet floated away out of mind. We do not know in which direction it rolls, the color of the ball, the reason for its unrest, nor whether it will ever reach its eventual destination. These details are left up to the imagination of the reader.
Here is where it gets interesting. The reader has a lifetime of experiences behind them. Out of these experiences, they choose one that has stuck with them all these years: running around, at three-years-old, through the park, chasing a bright red ball as it rolls along the grassy meadows. The ball is moved by the reader’s mother. It has no destination; or, if it did, it was intersected by the reader before it could reach that destination, and therefore can be said to no longer exist.
None of this information is in the original sentence, “The ball rolls.” Yet this does not prevent the reader from imagining, from filling in the blanks. Three unrelated ideas–the, ball, rolls–have been placed beside each other and combined to form a sentimental image of youth. The writer has created a world in the mind of the reader with the fundamental building blocks of speech. Therefore, call the writer a god on paper; they have earned this title fairly and without the slaughter of goats. The very least you could do is buy them some wine.