Give it back! Oh, Oh.

In the car.

I do something, put it back down again.

But now it belongs to me. Give it back.

How many things can I do to this object and put it down so it still looks like a cube?

I could rotate it by a third of a turn, or a half a turn, or put it back down on its image, or two thirds of a turn.

The familiar figure with the glinting, rimless glasses and the rigid hair forced back, as if it were spun glass, greeted me at the door of his seemingly tennis court size office.