Adventures of a Cube
Kristoffer Lawson
2nd July 1999


	"Hello, Cube!"
	Cube looked down with that unmoved expression it constantly had. 
Six-faced cube. Neutral, blank, unselfish, stern... If we were all cubes the 
world would at last be peaceful.
	Cube flew by and with a roaring sound and dazzling light removed
a small puny group of non-cubes. How that gets the adrenaline going! I
drummed my fist into the ground at the thought of being a cube and just
living such a wonderful life of sheer excitement. No longer would I sniff
at this hot, stale air. I could be so brilliantly unnerved by anything. Cubes
don't even have the need to create as they rotate round their own axis.
They're so magnificently nothing. So perfect in their mathematical form.
	I heard once of a person who preferred spheres for some strange
reason. Spheres lack magesty. When a cube turns slowly you see a sharp
edge approaching you. The feel of excitement heightens as it advances
steadily, until, quite suddenly, the other side appears and you realize,
after all the waiting, that you are only offered a face exactly like the
previous. It's simply magnificent! You cannot expect to experience that
with a sphere. A sphere only hangs in its own euphoric ring. You cannot
even see it really.
	And off it goes again! Searching the world with mild blankness. 
Pushing through squares and never finding anything. Still a cube never gives
up. Cubic cubes I love. The feeling is not mutual, of course, but that's what 
makes it all the more pleasing. Through the air it glides. In my hair it 
hides. Into my ear it finally flies. Beauty of the utmost power. Intellect 
beyond our dreams!
	"Farewell!", I cry.