"Ah," I sighed. A beautiful melody filled my ears. I believe this little number was called "A kiss to build a dream on" by Louis Armstrong, at least, the room told me so. Music only played from time to time in this room, and when it did, the tunes always lasted all day, and the music was always jazz. I looked around my room with gratefulness for the slight change from the regular blandness of the stone floors, and similarly colored walls that looked almost rubbery, although had a fleshy feeling upon touch.
I looked over from my old chair to my wooden bed, in the corner of the room, and the stack of books of which I had already read through. It was still early morning, so the bed was still glowing from last night's use. My eyes then drifted over the mirror by the window, my dear Malisa still silently staring at me through the glass of the mirror. I apologized that I couldn't be with her, but unfortunately, as always, she simply nodded and smiled. "Is she even real?" I thought to myself with doubt welling up within me. It had been so long since I'd seen anything outside of this god-forsaken room. "How did she even get in there?" I thought to myself. I wasn't sure. I'm not sure of anything anymore, not even my age. The "Calander" (it's just a few pages I ripped from a book, marked on by stone dust) tells me that I've been in here for about 273 years, but that must be inaccurate.
My eyes drifted to the window the mirror was next to, in an attempt to remind me that time can pass differently depending on where I am. Through the wooden frame and glass of the window, I allotted myself to see what the outside looked like today. Yesterday, it was an expansive forest, Viewed from far in the sky. Below, a seemingly massive creature was moving the trees about. Today, it was a mountain range, gazed upon from the middle of a lake, with an oversized moon in the sky. I scooted my old chair up to the window, which groaned in protest. I looked for anything that might be moving in the range, although I didn't see anything alive at all. The lake seemed to have been still for a thousand years.
"I'm hungry." I thought to myself. As always, a fresh, warm plate of food came from where a door should be in the wall. seeing as it was early morning, The meal was a stack of three pancakes drenched in syrup, along with a mug full of chai tea, the tea bag still present, and two sugar cubes to the side, just how I like it. I ate and drank on the bed, Like I normally do, the pretty melodies by Mr. Armstrong recently just ended, although a new song was filling my ears. My mind told me that this tune was called "Favela" by Ike Quebec. It was a nice tune, and jazzy, as always.
After I finished eating, my daily reading came through the wall, which I picked up, sat in the chair, and after a moment of investigating the outside again, I started to read. The book was called "The LAPD and YOU! A Survival Guide. Volume #47" it seemed interesting enough, but sadly, my daily reading was seemingly always randomly chosen. The book from today was seemingly from a series, so I annoyingly probably wouldn't understand some of the references to previous volumes in the book.
After I was done struggling through the volume, I looked back up to the window to see that the moon had risen considerably in the sky and that a few birds were perched on the outside of the windowsill. The birds had a very interesting appearance, at least nothing like I've seen before. the head of the avian was a hue of a dull, almost dirt-colored brown, while the body was the color of water, and the tail a fiery red. The beak was the most intriguing part of the bird. instead of a traditional bird's beak, the head came to a short stumpy tube, which, instead of opening, appeared to suck food in, and, after Favela had stopped, they tweeted or rather tooted a short, but pretty tune. Instead of the regular tweeting of a bird, it sounded like a quartet of trumpets. Truly unusual.
I assumed that the "day" was coming to an end, looking at the way the light was coming in through the window from the oversized moon. I placed my book on the stack by my bed, which prompted the book at the bottom of the ten-book pile to sink into the floor. I started to get hungry again, and through the wall, my dinner came. it was a kind of steak dinner, oddly with a main course of vegies and steak on the side. A glass of pink liquid accompanied the incorrectly composed meal. Oddly, a bag of birdseed had come with the meal. a note was attached:
"Give me to the creatures if you wish to be truly surprised."
I had gotten prompts from the room like this before. I simply just sat the birdseed by the window, and as if it was a normal protocol, the birdseed simply fell through the window, and onto the exterior windowsill. The birds tooted happily and sucked up the birdseed, while I sat down and watched as I ate my steak dinner. After I was finished, the plate disappeared, and a new jazz song started singing into my ears. This little birdsong was called "A wonderfully amazing day" by, strangely enough, the birds outside my window. The birds sang along with the song, singing every note perfectly. It was quite a beautiful change from the norm.
I looked to the back wall, hearing my nightly reading come out. I grabbed it and laid it down in my bed, and started reading this new book, titled "A land Far from Here" by someone named Frank Stone. Seemed interesting enough. While I was reading, it started to get dark. This prompted the bed I was laying on to start glowing, giving off a soothing warmth.
About an hour or so later, I finished the book and placed the thing on my stack. I walked past the mirror with my beautiful Malisa in it, watching me as tentatively as possible. I walked over to the window and was surprised to see that the birds had built a small platform in the water, that housed an outdoor-style pub. It was filled with other birds, the four birds from before tooting various songs and ditties. Meanwhile, some newcomers carried plates of birdseed around, balancing precariously on their beaks. Amused, I watched and listened for a while.
When it was time to hit the hay, I walked over to the mirror and kissed my Malisa goodnight. This prompted her to blush, while I went over to my bed, still glowing with soothing warmth, and fell to sleep.
"Today was a good day. A wonderfully, amazingly strange one at that" I figured to myself. "Those birds were nice too. I wonder what tomorrow will hold… what an unusual thought for me to have."