Cube

A man stands in a black void, there is nothing and no one in sight. Then a voice speaks.

“Imagine yourself in a desert,” it says.

The invisible walls at the edges of the black void begin to churn and froth coalescing into great torrents of sand. Then the walls collapse forward like great tidal waves. They swarm across the void and engulf the lone man.

When the newly formed desert has settled the man calmly climbs up and out of the dunes to stand once more. Now the black void above fades to a light blue and a sun rises quickly on the horizon until it hovers in the distance.

“Okay, I’m in a desert,” the man says. There is a pause, then, the mysterious voice speaks again.

“You come across a cube,” it says. There is no discernable source of the voice. “What size is it? What colour is it?”

The man looks at the ground before him. The sand where he looks begins to shift, rolling in on itself until it disperses somewhat revealing a black surface rising up.

In moments a black cube is nestled in the sand. It is the height of a man. The sand runs off of it like waterfalls.

When it is clear the man turns around and gestures towards the cube as if revealing it to the mysterious voice.

“What texture does it have?” Is all the voice says.

The man turns back to the cube and he runs a hand over the black surface.

“It is smooth,” he says, turning away from the cube and directing the words to the greater expanse of the desert.

“Does it have an entrance?”

The man looks back to the cube, with its unrevealing black surface and sees nothing to indicate an entrance. No doors, no handles, no gaps.

“No,” the man says. There is silence. When the man senses the mysterious voice is gone and he is alone, he places a hand of the centre of one facing of the cube.

Blue light races across its surface, drawing lines on the undamaged, smooth surfaces. It creates cracks and seams as it goes. The cube then splits, divided by the light into small geometric parts. They levitate, scattering in formation to reveal a glowing blue, spherical core.

“You just need the right approach,” the man whispers to himself.

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