!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> pegasus horse cake.

17.5.05

the stripe sat on the bench and sighed. the square looked up from his newspaper at this new bench-neighbor.
'why hello' said the square, folding the periodical on his lap.
the stripe looked at him sideways, and sighed again.
'what's the matter? surely such a pretty face shouldn't be so glum' the square insisted.
the stripe fidgeted with a bracelet.
'i... i'm worried, i don't like verbal abuse' a string of voice came from the stripe.
'you are being abused?! my dear, that is serious!' the square replied.
'oh, no, no, no. that is not the case, not personally' the stripe hid her mouth bashfully, 'i just don't like the verbal abuse i hear towards others like me'.
'oh... oh... i think i know what you mean' the square said, whilst nodding slowly, 'it is certainly denigrating.'
there was a slight flicker of a smile on the stripe's face at the square's understanding.
'sometimes... sometimes they call us... lines. sometimes they call us... vectors. it's cringing' the stripe shifted, 'as if we didn't have any other dimension at all... like, like... we had no other function.'
'the youth of today' muttered the square, breathing in, 'no manners, no civic behavior' he ruffled the newspaper 'narrow-mindedness, shapism. you would think these things would have been left behind.'
'i have to go now' the stripe looked at the square in the eyes for the first time, 'thank you for the talk. you are one of the few nicest quadrilateral rectangles i have ever met'. she pulled her handbag over her shoulder.
'don't mention it, dear, don't mention it. pay no mind to those awful names those disgraceful foursided rogues call you,' he adjusted his glasses and looked at the stripe over them, 'may you find a strapping young square to make you happy and treat you with the respect you deserve'
the stripe smiled, nodded, thanked him again, and walked away, disappearing around the fountain.

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