Reckoner

The couch's right arm is torn, empty bottles and a fold out rocking chair; the weave tired and frayed. A mural on the wall next to it; a small word in the right hand corner where the fibro meets the concrete reads Vortex. I call it my Extra Dimensional Portal. I don't know who created the Portal, nor do I dare use it. Waking up to a knock on the door late at night. I open it and there stands a man dressed in a white cube and a pyramid for a hat. He looks at me wide eyed and lets out a tone. In Cube Man speak this is hello, but I don't know because I don't speak Cube Man speak. I sigh, bleary "You must go back. You don't belong here. You must return" Cube Man looks sad, but I can't be sure because I don't know how Cube Man shows his feelings. He returns to Cube World. One day I will go through the portal, one day I will visit Cube World and no one will be able to understand me because they don't speak my speech or read how I feel, but I will go anyway. I go because I am curious, I go because I think it will be fun, however confusing, however frustrating, however scary.

I have made mistakes in my life, I have disappointed people, hurt people, angered people, yelled at people, made people sad. Sometimes I realise this, sometimes I am ignorant or oblivious to this, sometimes I don't care, sometimes I do. I realised later that I have hurt the Cube Man, I realise that he will go home and tell his Cube Wife and Cube Brothers and Cube Sisters that beyond the Portal is a small half naked young man that speaks in croaks and staggers, a young man that even after extending the olive branch of peace and salutations pointed to what he called his Extra Dimensional Portal and grunted in an unknown tongue for him to leave. At first the Cube man was unsure, maybe it was a question, maybe a jubilation. But even though he did not speak my speech or know my ways, even he; the Cube Man, the explorer, the brave one, even he knew. Even he was hurt, and I realised.

I have hurt some people, whether they be Cube or not. For that I apologise. Sometimes I have said sorry and not meant it or felt begrudged or pressured or forced by guilt or circumstance. But I am sorry. Not for personal redemption or to curry favour. But because I am.

Sorry Cube Man. The day I go to the Cube World I hope you can forgive me.