room with five walls. on each corner a candle. three lit and one red. bed perfectly centered from each corner; although one will always be offset. three books at one foot of the bed. seven on the other. all distinct in size and colour. all the rest, empty. in the midst, a boy rocked back and forth to the tune of his un-rhythmed humming. faced the footboard, which he almost hit when he leaned too much forward. in front of him laid a three-dimensional star. each side had a mathematical formula scribbled on by the boy. the cube contained some mystical riddles on its sides, and in his hand, a pyramid, as he wrote notes of his tune. all three-dimensioned shapes were in the size of half a foot: height, length, and width, with approximation. when he was done, he got up and walked to the door. as he approached, a bark from a fierce dog entered from the other side. he took a step aback, and as such the dog began to wail and howl.
the boy froze entrapped. the loop of the scene replaying indefinitely.
© jacob greb — 2002
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