My father was a... lover of very specific “things”. It's hard to pin down what exactly, though you might call them occultish - books made of skin, whispering daggers, lifelike dolls, that kind of thing. The mansion we lived in was like that too - at first it's easy to get lost in, but live there awhile and navigating becomes second nature. To us it felt homey, safe. I... Where was I again?

“Your father.”

  Ah yes, my father. He had brought back a new gaggle of trinkets. A shrunken head with fresh looking lips, a rusted and runed goblet that glowed under moonlight, among other items. These objects, my father’s collection, have a black nature to them, like sleeping with your friend's girlfriend. Twisted and wrong, but that's exactly where the temptation lies, isn't it? My father was showing us each new item, describing their histories and quirks, skipping one item. The Item. I know now it was special, but at a glance you couldn't tell. I intended to ask my father what it was but I... couldn't describe it. I still can’t.

“What do you mean?”

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  That's the thing, I couldn't tell you. I could tell you things about it, sure. It has a vivid, cutting colour. It's about the size of a rubik's cube, a touch larger perhaps. But its shape is completely indescribable. You’re doubting me, aren't you? See for yourself then.

"That's, well it's a diamond shape.”

  No no, see how it curves there?

"Well, then I suppose it's more of a... Pyramid?"

  No, not at all. See that? It doesn't bottom out, it spirals back into itself.

"Hm."

  It's somewhat reminiscent of an impossible object, no? Except those are mere optical illusions. This is real. Indescribable... But it's more than just that. It was different from my father’s collection. Pure. Not quite their antithesis, but close. You could call it friendly, maybe. So instead of telling my father, I took it into my hands, turned it back and forth. I suppose it served like a palate cleanser, maybe that's why I was so fond of it... It was late by this time, and everyone retired for sleep. I dropped my hands and slid the Item into my pocket, I wasn't yet ready to part with it. I don't think I'll ever be able to part with it, not anymore. It feels so right in my hand... So imperfectly perfect... Ha ha, maybe this is what they call love at first sight?