Dimensions, A Tale of Cows, Where's Waldo? and Geometry

I am a Sphere, thus I narrate...

He was nonplussed, that is what he was, as he stood looking over the pasture. He was so bewildered that the cow standing next to him gave curdled milk for a week. He was so discombobulated that he took off his red and white striped hat and drop kicked it a mile! He was so at sea, befuddled is what the poor man was.

A moment before he stood within a two dimensional plane. It all made sense to him. He was flat, his world was flat...everything was flat. Women were lines, men, polygons. He knew what was what and who was who...but now he felt like a triangle.

Then it happened...someone traduced him, their voice boomed across the sky, seemingly to heaven. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his ears...and when it was over...here he was...flummoxed.

An odd world, a three dimensional one, where angles jutted out and over and around, how very strange! He had once visited Lineland, a one dimensional world, and of course knew that all the worlds weren't lineal and he'd heard about the third dimension..but for this...theoretical or not, he wasn't prepared.

He looked at the cow who stood, nonchalant, munching on some hay. He admired the beasts proportions, so robust, so noble, so Circular he thought. Not knowing what else to do, he introduced himself to the cow and queried, "Your majesty, my name is Waldo and I am from the two dimensional Flatland, what do you call this land of yours?"

The cow looked up and stopped chewing. He shook his head gently to shoo away several flies and uttered a short, “moo.” He then returned to his hay, chewing with what seemed like contented conviction.

“Moo?” Waldo repeated, “I am pleased to visit your land of Moo, your Majesty. You are a Circle I see, a Priest then, yes?”

The cow, being a cow, didn't answer.

“Of course, Circles are almost perfect, they need not concern themselves with simple squares.” Waldo reminded himself.

Realizing that he'd get no more interaction from the cow, Waldo wandered within the pasture, admiring this odd world of three dimensions. There were trees and rocks and animals...all things that had no name or meaning, just angles and sides. Objects jutted out at him, soared above him, seemed to just rise out of the plane and even changed shapes.

Being a square, it made no difference to Waldo that there was a moose made of butter, a penguin with no feet, a sad suicidal clown and a precocious, bubbly girl, each playing in the field. They were all the same to him, weird, polymorphic but with no seeming purpose.

He wandered past a sausage on a cross, a large egg with creatures spewing out, manic telephones, burning giraffes, and other Dali-like creations...what a strange, violent world was the land of Moo.

Waldo walked to the edge of the field...to the edge of nothingness, and looked over the edge. There was nothing, not clouds, not blue sky...just a gray nothing. As he looked down, deep in thought, a homunculus approached Waldo, pointed to the gray void and spoke, “They say that is the fourth dimension, where everything becomes bent and distorted, and time becomes oblique. But no man has been there, though it is also said, we're all products of its spatial matter.”

“Is it God?” asked the square Waldo looking at the homunculus.

“You know of the concept of God?”

“Every sentient being is aware that concept, they are imbued by it.”

“I won't argue your logic Mr. Square, not here, before the void where all things are possible.”

Just as the homunculus had spoken those words a winged horse, Pegasus flew in from out of the void and landed before the two, “Father Time?” he asked, scanning the pair.

“Oh he's way over at the other end of the field, behind the Echoing cave. But don't enter into the mouth of the cave, you've been warned!”

Pegasus, in a hurry, had no time to ask why he must avoid the cave, and flew off in search of the infinite. Waldo however did ask, “What is so dangerous about the echoing cave?”

The homunculus smiled, “It's not a matter of danger, it's a matter of truth. No one can stand too much of the latter.”

Waldo looked around the field, at the absurdities and suddenly wished that he could again hear that booming voice, and after its roar, he'd again be in flatland, safe from this world of cubic atrocities.