The Sitter Forgot Her Edges
The Sitter had been sitting for three days when she noticed her edges were no longer hers. They belonged to the blue triangles behind her, which had been slowly claiming her outline while she wasn’t paying attention. “Excuse me,” she said to a particularly assertive purple plane. “That’s my shoulder you’re intersecting.” “I disagree,” said the plane. “I was here first. You’re the one made of orange and yellow opinions. I’m made of spatial fact.”… read more – weiterlesen The Sitter Forgot Her Edges
The Performance Ate Itself
The Conductor arrived at the concert hall to find the building had collapsed inward overnight, but was still functioning. The architecture had decided to become its own audience, folding and refolding until every surface faced every other surface simultaneously. “The show must go on,” said a pink beam to a blue support column. They were holding each other up while simultaneously pulling each other down. Both were correct about which direction was structural. The Conductor… read more – weiterlesen The Performance Ate Itself
The Directions Held a Meeting
The Directions held a meeting to determine which way was correct. North brought a magenta argument. South arrived with blue evidence. East and West came together, couldn’t agree on who was whom, and split into orange and green factions. The meeting was held inside a triangle, which was the wrong venue. Triangles, as the Directions soon discovered, have opinions about angles. This particular triangle believed all angles should be acute, which offended the right angles… read more – weiterlesen The Directions Held a Meeting
The Reflection Refused to Match
The building’s reflection had filed for independence on Tuesday morning. It no longer wished to mirror the structure above, it explained in a tersely worded manifesto. It wanted to pursue its own architectural ambitions. The building above was concerned. It was a cheerful arrangement of colored squares—pink, yellow, magenta, coral—assembled with optimistic geometry. Below, in the water’s surface, its reflection had become something entirely different: a deep blue scaffolding, a skeletal infrastructure, columns descending into… read more – weiterlesen The Reflection Refused to Match
The Walker Forgot to Arrive
The Walker had been walking for three hours but hadn’t moved. The tunnel kept generating itself around her at exactly the speed she traveled, so technically she remained perfectly still while covering enormous distance. The colors were arguing about which direction was forward. Yellow insisted forward was a warm concept. Pink claimed forward had been deprecated in the latest spatial update. Purple suggested they were all inside-out and didn’t realize it yet. “Excuse me,” the… read more – weiterlesen The Walker Forgot to Arrive
The Room Learned to Lean
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 with the floor, both agreeing that horizontal was a provincial concept. The purple beams had twisted themselves into arguments. The pink surfaces were blushing at… read more – weiterlesen The Room Learned to Lean
Die Fenster beschwerten sich
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 in heftiger Diskussion mit sich selbst. Die violetten Stockwerke behaupteten, sie lägen ganz unten. Die gelben Fassadenteile stritten sich darüber, ob sie noch zum Haus… read more – weiterlesen Die Fenster beschwerten sich
The Face That Could Not Agree
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 the end, the planes held a vote. The face lost by one vote against itself. This original abstract expressionist portrait captures the inner parliament of… read more – weiterlesen The Face That Could Not Agree
What Is Everything Running Toward and Away From?
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 the intersection, “of pretending convergence and divergence are different.” The yellow lane rushed forward while fleeing backward. The pink diagonal insisted it was both arriving… read more – weiterlesen What Is Everything Running Toward and Away From?
Das unmögliche Vestibül
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 türkisfarbene Tür eintrat, fand sich gleichzeitig ankommend und aufbrechend. Die orangenen Balken behaupteten, sie seien tragende Wände. Die blauen Flächen erklärten sich zu Böden, obwohl… read more – weiterlesen Das unmögliche Vestibül