"It's not sculpture," I insisted. I opened the door to Algernon's living- cage attached to the maze,
and let him into the maze opening. "My God!" she whispered.
"Sculpture with a living element. Charlie, it's the greatest thing since junkmobiles and tincannia."
I tried to explain, but she insisted that the living element would make sculpture history.
Only when I saw the laughter in her wild eyes did I realize she was teasing me.
"It could be self-perpetuating art," she went on, "a creative experience for the art lover.
You get another mouse and when they have babies, you always keep one to reproduce the living element.
Your work of art attains immortality, and all the fashionable people buy copies for conversation pieces. What are you going to call it?"
"All right," I sighed. "I surrender_ _" "No," she snorted,
tapping the plastic dome where Algernon had found his way into the goal-box.
"I surrender is too much of a cliché. How about: Life is just a box of mazes?"
"You're a nut!" I said. "Naturally!" She spun around and curtsied. "I was wondering when you'd notice."
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