Mountain Qualia

NaNoWriMo Day 3

In the morning, Tipi jumped out of bed and then realized he had not returned to his former self. He knew this because he did not know his former self, but he did know that who he was now, was the same self as who he was yesterday. At least the latter half of the day.

He looked around at the pile of sheets on his bed. The sheets on the other bed looked as pristine as a giant cake with icing. It would be, except for the small dents made by Tipi yesterday when he had let him fall backwards in self-sorrow. The almost pristine sheets did not grab Tipi's full attention, though. The pile of sheets did. It did not remind him of a tuft of whipped cream. It resembled the result of Tipi trying to fold a napkin at a fancy dinner party, but that did not cross his mind. It was as if he shrunk himself in his mind and saw himself hiking the barren hills towards the top.

The hunger pangs overruled his imagination. He decided it was time to see if this hotel served breakfast. He had seen a small room with a few sets of tables and chairs that would fulfil the purpose of breakfast hall very well. He put on his bath slippers that he had tried to clean after last night's adventure. They were noticeably cleaner, but also very soggy.

Tipi left the room on his bare feet and tip-toed to the hall he had predestined to be full of Russian breakfast delicacies. The room was empty. It was also really still, which would not have been very suspicious had it not been for the stern looking woman in an apron standing in a corner.

Tipi yelped and fell sideways onto a wooden chair. Whether the outcry or the seating triggered to woman to walk towards Tipi nobody will ever know, but it was clear that she gestured frantic eating movements.

"Da?" Tipi said, although the Swedish word fjärilsträdgårdssorg had been on the tip of his tongue as well. He probably made the right choice of words, because the woman turned around and wiped her clean and dry hands on her apron. This could only mean they would get some action in the kitchen.

What if there are no other guests in this hotel? They can't keep this place open with one guest only. Tipi was not even sure his room was already paid for and felt guilty already for eating away their profit. He decided to let the feeling slide.

Ten minutes later, the woman returned with an immense tray. She put a generous bowl of porridge on the table. Next to it, she placed a dish filled with a sweet smelling sticky muck that probably contained prunes. There was a considerable amount of porridge, and eating it felt like digging a train tunnel through the Mont Blanc. Determined not to give up on the challenge, he started to eat faster and faster to outeat the feeling of being full. This resulted in a surprisingly approving look from the aproned woman, who, Tipi now realized had been staring at him eating all this time.

This made him stop, get up, gesture a thank you to the only other person in the room and head back to his room. He increased his pace and finally hop stepped jumped into his hotel bathroom.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Tipi! Are you there?"

"Yeah!" Tipi said.

"It's Alex, and Ford," the voice behind the hotel door said. "We helped you yesterday, remember?"

"I know, I know."

"Please, open up! We know you're here. Why are you ignoring us?"

"I'm not! Hold on, I'm coming, I'm coming," Tipi said while folding his body in an uncomfortable position to roll out a sufficient amount of toiletpaper. 

The knocking became louder. Tipi heard the voices talking to each other now. "Do you think something happened to him?" "Maybe he jumped the window?" "Why isn't he opening up?"