Interstellar Capturing

Waking up

I wake up inside my house but something feels off. I shrug it off and yawn as well as stretch.

I go downstairs but some furniture are in weird places. I fix the misplacement and head to the kitchen.

I grab some bread from the larder and pop it into the toaster.

While the toast cooks, I grab some chicken-liver-pate and a butter knife. I set this on the counter beside the toaster and grab a plate from my china set and some butter from my massive fridge-freezer. I also grab some apple juice and close the fridge.

I return the the toaster and grab the fresh toast and lay it on the plate. I grab a cup from one of the many mahogany overhead-shelves.

I pour some chilled apple juice into the pint glass and set it aside for now.

I grab the butter and the knife. I open the butter and collect a generous amount of butter on the serated edge of the butter knife and evenly coat the warm toast with said butter.

I proceed to do the same with the pate.

I take my glass in one hand and the plate in the other and turn on my heel to my lounge.

As I enter the room, it is completely lit up by sunlight that pours through the many windows in the room. There is two french sliding doors on the far wall that lead to the immaculate, spacious, lush garden and a wide Velux that covers the entire roof.

A huge flat-screen television covers the left-most wall, elevated off the floor;mounted on the wall.

A pleasant dark-cream colour coats the walls and a plush rug lines the floor. I pass the grey-fabric sofa and stride across the room towards my well-loved deep-blue fabric-accent chair.

I set my plate and glass down on the exquisite teak side-table and head back out of the room again to fetch my pipe; a good book and when I return to the roomm a fitting record for my cheerful mood.