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The box waited in the corner. It was just a simple machine, so granting it any form of needs or wants was nothing more than anthropomorphism. Still, it had been constructed with purpose, and the room it was in had more than enough sentience to make up for the box's lack.

So I suppose it would be more accurate to say that the room with the box in the corner waited. And, just as it felt the need, manifested a door and some high windows. Enough to give a sense of time, but too little to make out any detail.

A small child stepped in and closed the door, panting. Footsteps outside came closer, and then faded. The child backed up, and bumped the box, which acted according to its builder's wishes, and produced a story.

And so the child spent several hours reading the tales the box produced, and then left, leaving the room empty again.

No longer needed, the door and windows vanished, and the room waited again.

#SF #SFF #microfiction #Tootfic #IAmWriting