Information

Luisa
Legacy Name: Luisa

The Nostalgic Lain
Owner: Koi

Age: 7 years, 4 months, 2 days

Born: November 14th, 2018

Adopted: 1 year, 9 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: May 29th, 2024

Statistics

• Level: 408
   
• Strength: 1,020
   
• Defense: 1,019
   
• Speed: 1,017
   
• Health: 1,017
   
• HP: 1,017/1,017
   
• Intelligence: 981
   
• Books Read: 974
• Food Eaten: 8
• Job: Analytic Methodologist

Art, story, & temporary overlay by Koi,
Concepts: Floral/bird/wallpaper theme ╽ [x], [x]
Cursor by cursors-4u
Birds chatter and wind causes the thin house to lift then settle. Your eyes squint open. A ray of sunlight peaks through the crack in the curtains, and dust particles float mid-air. You attempt to return to sleep. Phosphenes swirl behind your eyelids: small kaleidoscopic light patterns that alter and sway.

The air feels cool in your throat. You stretch slowly then maneuver from under the quilt. Your feet settle on the floor. At first, the wood feels wet, but it is merely cold. You wince (you aren't a morning person). But you enjoy waking up late on cold, sunny days.

You don't bother getting dressed or brushing your teeth. Instead, you open the door and walk a few steps toward the kitchen. It's a small room, connected to the living room. But it feels bigger. Nearly every space of wall and ceiling are covered with photographs and treasures. You begin a pot of coffee then place two pieces of bread in the toaster. Then, you sit by the kitchen table and look out the window. There's a hummingbird feeder filled with red sugar water. Beyond this, in the yard, is a birdbath with smooth water. The coffee gurgles, but there are no birds to be seen.

Pop.
The toaster is finished. You run it a second time for extra crispiness. Then, you pour coffee into you favorite clear glass mug. You slowly pour the creamer and watch it rise and fall like ocean waves inside the glass. The white cream settles at the bottom.

Pop.

The toast is ready this time. You spread butter and sprinkle cinnamon sugar on top.

Whistling
You sit on the couch with your breakfast. The television and radio are off. There is some silence amidst the small noises in the room: whistling, whirring, and ticking. You've been collecting "treasures" for decades: clocks, chimes, ornaments, seashells, half-dead plants... You find them at secondhand shops, early morning yard sales, and occasionally on someone's curb ready for the trash. You love collecting other people's "trash." There is something beautiful about a glass angel with a missing wing or a painted wooden bird with a chip in its beak.

You drink your coffee slowly then place your dishes in the sink. You let the water run until it's hot and begin last night's dishwashing.

Whistling

There is one trinket you cannot ignore because it whistles. It's one of the many wooden birds hanging from your ceiling. But this one is battery operated and functional. You found it at a yard sale for $5.00 once and talked the seller down for $2.00 instead.

She hesitated and said, "Sure, why not? It's broken..."

You later scrubbed the corroded battery compartment with rubbing alcohol. After placing batteries inside, the bird began whistling. You hung it on the ceiling between the kitchen and the living room. It whistled every time you walked by. Every single time. Initially, this frustrated you. You once took the batteries out, as you found it whistling 50+ times while cleaning the house. But you replaced the batteries months later and continued to replace them after.

Now, you find the wooden bird comforting. You even talk to her on occasion, as if she is a house guest.

"Oh look!" you call, your hands submerged in bubbly water. A hummingbird flutters outside the kitchen window. A second hummingbird arrives. They both drink the red sugar water then flutter midair.

One disappears. Then the other. You scrub the coffee mug.

"Wasn't that nice, Luisa?" You smile.

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