Category: Pigture

The room learned to lean on Thursday, though no one had taught it. It began with the corners, which decided they preferred acute angles to right ones. The walls followed suit, tilting toward each other like gossips sharing secrets. The Color Commissioner arrived to investigate. She found the ceiling conversing… read more – weiterlesen The Room Learned to Lean

Der Architekt kam um drei Uhr nachts zur Baustelle, weil die Fenster sich beschwert hatten. Sie seien, schrieben sie in ihrem kollektiven Protestbrief, in falschen Wänden eingebaut worden. Manche blickten nach innen statt nach außen. Andere betrachteten sich gegenseitig, was zu unangenehmen Dauergesprächen führe. Vor Ort fand er das Gebäude… read more – weiterlesen Die Fenster beschwerten sich

Fourteen colors quarreled over a cheek. Magenta claimed it was the grief, but Cyan remembered Tuesday — and Tuesday was demonstrably yellow. The nose broke into three opinions. Each eye looked into a different childhood. The lips spoke two languages at once; both said: I am not from here. In… read more – weiterlesen The Face That Could Not Agree

The intersection announced on Sunday that it would no longer decide which direction was which. For seventy years it had sorted traffic: north to north, south to south, red to its designated corner, blue to its assigned quadrant. Now it declared all directions equally valid and simultaneous. “I’m tired,” said… read more – weiterlesen What Is Everything Running Toward and Away From?

Der Hausmeister behauptete, das Vestibül sei am Mittwoch installiert worden, aber niemand konnte sich an einen Dienstag ohne es erinnern. Es lag zwischen dem Erdgeschoss und dem ersten Stock, obwohl beide Etagen versicherten, es nicht angefordert zu haben. Das Problem war nicht die Lage, sondern die Richtung. Wer durch die… read more – weiterlesen Das unmögliche Vestibül

On Thursday morning, the engineers discovered their robot had assembled itself incorrectly. Not technically incorrectly—the blueprints were wrong, the robot insisted. It had forty-seven angles where it should have had six, and its arms grew inward instead of out. “I refuse,” said the robot, “to be constructed sequentially.” The chief… read more – weiterlesen The Recalcitrant Robot

Am Dienstag um halb vier beschloss der Turm, dass Oben und Unten ohnehin Erfindungen waren. Er hatte jahrhundertelang versucht, in die Höhe zu wachsen, doch die Stockwerke weigerten sich, übereinander zu liegen. Stattdessen drängten sie seitlich, querfeldig, einander durchdringend wie ungeduldige Gedanken. Das Rot erklärte sich zum Fundament, obwohl es… read more – weiterlesen Der traurige Turm, der nicht mehr weiter wusste und aus dem Rahmen sprang

The Architect built the staircase on a Thursday, but by Friday it had rearranged itself into Wednesday. Each step argued with the one above it about which direction was forward. Red insisted it led up. Yellow swore it went sideways. Turquoise claimed the whole thing was actually descending into next… read more – weiterlesen The Staircase Debate

The towers held a meeting to decide which way was up. Magenta insisted it was already up, but Yellow pointed out that Magenta was clearly leaning left. “Left isn’t a direction,” said Turquoise from somewhere in the middle. “It’s a political stance.” The Architect had designed them to stand side… read more – weiterlesen The Vertical Argument

He arrived in seven cities simultaneously, carrying the same briefcase in different colors. In Munich it was yellow, in Prague purple, in Vienna it had ceased to exist but still held all his notes. The Traveling Lecturer had mastered the art of being fractured—not broken, fractured. There’s a difference. “Today’s… read more – weiterlesen Der Vortragsreisende Mitmensch / The Traveling Lecture Companion

The Architect kept his unbuilt buildings underwater. Not drawings—the actual structures, made of glass that had learned to breathe. He visited them every Thursday by forgetting how to swim, sinking straight down through the blue until his feet touched the pink floor that wasn’t there. “This one was supposed to… read more – weiterlesen The Drowned Blueprint

On Tuesday, the rectangles declared war on the trapezoids. No one remembers why—something about a yellow stripe that claimed it was actually horizontal when everyone could see it was vertical. The Color Commissioner tried to mediate, but she had been dead for three weeks and her authority was questionable. “I… read more – weiterlesen The Glass Argument