Indigo: and the Blues

In a two-dimensional world a story cannot begin once upon a time, only once upon a place. The place was a point upon the plane far from the brightness of the Zero. Here lived the blues, who definitely did not come in all shapes and sizes. Everybody was a quadrilateral, mostly rectangles who dreamed of being squares, and the squares themselves, whose hierarchy ranked them in order of size.

The blues knew and accepted that the big squares enforce the Rules, although some whispered that the squares wrote the Rules to suit themselves (or at least interpreted them that way). But these whispers, most often by disgruntled quads who would never be square enough, would always be betrayed to the big squares, who sent out squads of squares to deal with anti-geometric behaviour.

So it was not unusual to see a group of squares chasing some poor old trapezium along the x-axis, or banishing a bitter oblong to the furthest co-ordinates of the blue plane; and nobody would bat a convex angle at the sight of a bunch of blues marching the heretic Indigo, a rebellious rhombus, in for questioning.

In fact it was during such an interrogation, with Indigo facing a row of senior squares, that it happened.

This is the story of how one brave blue changed the world.