This won’t do.
It was lounging in its bed trapped under a mountain of blankets,listening to the rain ooutside,watching the raindrops falling from the grill to the window sill.The room was a mess.There are clothes piled up on the chair next to the table.The table is loaded with things defying the laws of gravity.The bedsheet is crumpled and leaving its mitred ends from under the bed.The coffee stains on the mug seem permanent as its not been washed for a long time,only refilled.
It trailed a finger through the screen of its desktop removing a film of dust that had accumulated over the past two weeks.The floor was littered with books of varying degree of vagueness.
This won’t do.
It thought and decided to clean up.Starting with the bedspread first,straightening the crooked balance of the phone,folding the blankets,another new mug of coffee.It proceeded to the sofa and cushions and underneath found a copy of Prophet which was considered lost.
Shamelessly,It plonked itself on one of the just-fluffed cushions with the mug spilling coffee on the just-changed sheets ..
“Almustafa the chosen and the beloved..

