There is a room. I will draw a chair every day and I'll place it in that room. In the end, there will be one hundred chairs. And a story. Or more stories. At least I hope so.
Once upon a time there was a room. And in the room one chair. That was Day One.
And then another chair came by. That was Day Two.
And then another. That was Day Three.
And then another. That was Day Fourteen.
And then another chair came by. That was Day Twenty-Five.
Next day was dark. A blackout maybe, or something like this. No one saw the 26th chair coming, still he did. That was Day Twenty-Six.
An ordinary day, even boring. Another chair came by. That was Day Twenty-Seven.
Then one more chair showed up.
That was Day Thirty.
The next day was a silly one, because the 31st chair was late in making its appearance. 29 seats (yes, only 29 for the first chair never seems to give any attention to what is happening around him) began to fret, and even to stir, to move back and forth, which is--I must say--really unusual. But later in the evening another chair came by. That was Day Thirty-One.
A calm day. And one more chair showed up. That was Day Thirty-Seven.
Wow, wow, what a day! It started out as an ordinary day. Then another chair came by. A nasty, very unpleasant guy. Neither a "good-afternoon", nor a "hi" or "hello". He stared at the others in the room and just said "Ordnung und Disziplin", and then "that's what you need". A really unpleasant sod, this Colonel. He had been for many years an HQ chair and he only knew one thing: order was everything. The Colonel asked the chairs to form lines and rows, and then move into new lines and rows. In the beginning it was funny, but after a while it became as boring as a birthday on Facebook. Finally, the day ended in a big fiasco for the newcomer. Just look at the mess! That was Day Thirty-Eight.
A peaceful day. Little before eventide, a new chair showed up. A pretty shy and quiet one. That was Day Thirty-Nine.
The next day was an awful one after the 41st chair showed up (around noon) just because the newcomer was actually a SHE. Everybody panicked--you know, of course, except the very first chair, always so absent. That was Day Forty-One.
Okay, as you know, night is the mother of counsel and, sometimes, good counsel can make you bolder. So, next day, the guys forgot the panic and gave Chairry (as they had secretly nicknamed the lady, i.e. the 41st chair) just a bit of attention. Nobody saw the johnny-come-lately arrive. That was Day Forty-Two.
Quiet again. Only the new chair was bizzare. Some sort of alien. That was Day Forty-Three.
It was a rather curious day. Or, how can I call it? Absurd? "Good afternoon, Mesdames et Monsieurs, I'm sure you know me, the director chair" said the newcomer, right after having burst into the room, "and I'm looking for chairs, lots of chairs, to be extras in a play. I see that we are a lot here. Well, I had initially planned to put on another play, so I went out to get some rhinos, but, merde, what peculiar ideas this Ionesco had, nowadays rhinos are running scarce. Vraiment impossible to find. I had to reconsider and I reckoned that some chairs would work just as fine”. Everyone was baffled. That was Day Fifty-Six.
"Don't stare at me. Do not stare at me! I'm a serious chair. I know that a chair is not supposed to have a dog, I know, but what can I do? I lived a quiet life, I was a happy chair on a smart terrace. But one day a pair of beautiful legs with high-heeled shoes and a vicious dog came by to take a latte. And then the high-heeled legs forgot the dog. The dog was tied to me. Since then no one has sat on me, thinking I am taken. My beautiful life is gone and the dog has remained. I had to go far away in order to understand it all. That's why I came here." On this, the newcomer went silent. You know that the chairs, especially the wooden-legged, do not really love dogs. Still this time they found it funny. That was Day Fifty-Eight.
And another chair came by. That was Day Seventy-One.
No one saw, heard or felt anything (if the dog smelled something, it did not tell anyone), but a red carpet appeared in the room in the morning. They all expected the arrival of some VIP. Yet, to everyone's disappointment, the newcomer was quite an ordinary one.
The eightieth newcomer didn't come alone, he brought a cat. The chair was fairly quiet and the cat fairly black. You can't say the chairs have a great passion for cats but, whatever, a bit of fur breaks the monotony. Finally it was fun. That was Day Eighty.
Next day one more chair showed up.
That was Day Eighty-One.
What was expected to happen happened, so the next chair turned up right in the middle of the mayhem, which will eventually result in eighty-four confused chairs, no dog, no cat and a terrible mess. That was Day Eighty-Four.
The next day was 86ed.
This eighty-seventh guy--a very high-brow one! That was Day Eighty-Seven.
Houston, We've Got a Problem!
And that was Day Ninety-Four.
Wait, wait a moment! Is that a chair?
And that was Day Ninety-Five.
Are you pulling my leg, eh?
What on Earth is this, has someone changed the story? Are we still in the One Hundred Chair Room or in some DreamWorks film?
I know what I said here 100 days ago: "... I will draw a chair every day and I'll place it in that room. In the end, there will be one hundred chairs", blah-blah-blah. Sorry I couldn't keep my promise. You see, this story is no longer mine, it has slowly become that of the very first chair, the red one. A chair forgotten in a room, who has tried to make peace with his solitude. That's it.
There may not be one hundred chairs in the room, but I did draw them.