A square alone in his world, free and giddy as a little girl. But approached suddenly a group of circles, making right to him and he panicked and swirled. Too late, the circles surrounded him, leveling their hateful eyes into a gaze so grim. 'Hey square,' they said, angry and heated. 'We don't like you're kind, why don't you beat it?'. The square shivered with fear as these rounds closed in, when suddenly their came a great din. The ground shook, and cracked beneath them, swallowing the circles whole, but for the square rescue had come, for him, death would not toll. And would you have guessed it, the world saved his hair, because the world is, and always will be, square.


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