It looks inconspicuously. Well, an ordinary prism. A bit oblique. One face, the roof, is not perpendicular to those two it has common longer edges with, but perpendicular to other two faces it has common shorter edges with. Quite warped for none of the perpendicular edges and walls (or faces) are really perpendicular, and none of straight lines is really straight. What should be even is not even, and what should be smooth is not smooth. Yet it was not, it had never been, to be an ideal, abstract solid – it was to be a real solid, real shed, real cabin... Frankly writing this assumption can be false, because nothing is known about the events preceding the appearance of the shed, about plans, ideas, intentions, guidelines. Would such knowledge be useful? Probably it would let us think differently now, argue differently, create different theories, but what we can see right now would not be different. The history of the shed is known only from its middle. And it is only half-known. Maybe the word partially would be better, more convenient – it would suggest non-entireness not defining the size of the part. But half is a notion sufficiently unclear, thus absolutely acceptable. Certainly, we should not come to the conclusion, that knowing a half of the half of the history we know but a quarter of it. This would be too simple. Although the shed is a very primitive building, the logic ruling its history is not primitive, no doubt about that. It's enough to think we know neither which nor what half is the point. The cut can be made vertically, horizontally, diagonally, or following any curve. Or holes of various sizes can be cut out. Having written from the middle we silently (and blindly) assume time is the point – but space can be the point as well, or the history refers only to the visible part of the shed, what is on the surface of the ground, and does not touch the invisible part which should be hidden in the ground, under the visible part, probably but not surely. Let's imagine the shed has never been opened, has no door, nobody has ever been inside it, nobody has ever taken a risk to look through a hole or a slit into a pitch-dark interior... Let's imagine the shed is hanging – why couldn't it? - then the other half, the invisible one, would be above it and would deserve to be called a heavenly foundation... Oh, we won't go on chasing the imagination which once pushed is now rolling down the hill like a snowball transforming quickly into an avalanche demolishing everything on its way... We assume the shed was existing since the moment it had been built to the moment we saw it for the first time as long as from that moment until now, or to the moment this very text is being written. This assumption is very problematic, because we don't know exactly when the shed was built, and it wouldn't be easy to find it, since there are no documents, because there have never been any, nor there are anyone of those who were building it. Probably we could count its age applying the putrefaction and decay speed of the planks and boards, as well as how fast the elements of construction have been devoured, though the result would not be precise and reliable for this speed depends on the laziness-diligence ratio among numberless generations of decayers and devourers, and this is something that can not be done. Due to many obvious reasons; one of these reasons is the fact the decayed and rotten and half-devoured elements were burnt down (fully devoured could not be burnt due to more than obvious reasons) during Big Renovation. Yes, it really was Big Renovation, and it might be the beginning of New History, if somebody would like to study such history, or imagine it (it is known, that history usually is a result of studying or imagining, sometimes of studying and imagining), but it looks like nobody would. Big Renovation was no doubt big. The shed was cut into halves and the half that was more destroyed and rotten and under threat of collapse was dismantled. Things (trash and rubbish) gathered in the shed were segregated: what was to be buried was buried, what was to be burnt was burnt, what was to be kept was kept (until next Big Renovation which can be Big Ultimate Annihilation). The New Shed was covered with wooden siding again, mostly with old boards and planks still good enough, and with some new ones – the most important is that this time the boards were put horizontally (not vertically as before), overlapping one another like tiles. Thus the walls as if turned into lined pages waiting for a story to be written on them. A story. Meaning what? What kind of a story? A story or a history? Or a tale? Any tale? Each tale? Everybody, or the overwhelming majority, could expect a history of this shed. But why? Why not a history of the chestnut tree growing near it? And why a story? Why not a poem, or grammar manual, or cosmological treatise, or accountant's report? Let's stop here. Continuation can be dangerous. Such pondering is an abyss sucking us in, a black hole devouring our minds and letting out nothing but bits of sheer madness and stupidity. Let's go back to the beginning, let's begin all this once more considering the above lines not written and not read. Let us ask the basic question that should be asked in the very beginning: what a shed is? Basic, or not precise enough, too general, so let us ask again: THIS SHED – what is it? Yes, this is the right question. Right? It suggest that everybody knows very well what a shed is, but not everybody (or nobody) knows if this shed is a shed, maybe this is a kind of shed, a shed of some other kind, or a non-shed, maybe it only pretends to be a shed being in fact something else, maybe it is a camouflage and something is hidden under its shedness. So, once again: what is this? This is a model of the prismatic universe (or the world only) – because neither a conical nor dodecahedronic one. This is the universe (or the world only) having the funny shape of oblique and warped prism. This will be (if) a book (unnormal or imaginary) describing the prismatic universe (or the world which has taken the bizarre form of the oblique warped cuboid). This is, like every shed, a place where various things, generally rubbish (so also words, notions, ideas, sentences, phrases and their combinations which seem untwistable, though this may be only the question of time and of diligence of the most tiny creatures) not needed any more, but not worth throwing away, because they may be needed one day, so they are stored, then forgotten, and finally they turn into monsters, rot and decay, become the swarm of demons much worse than the one imprisoned in the famous box. This is the place, where the whole evil of the world has been buried, all filthiness and hideousness of the world… everything? the whole world? This is a shed-book, a book-shed, where have been stored words to be burnt in a fireplace during long, very dark and very cold autumn and winter evenings, as well as during rainy and misty and snowy and not snowy mornings and afternoons. This is the shed which is not here. There should be a shed here. The rubbish must be kept somewhere. What will it look like? >>>