Waddling into the room, the crow wondered what the light was that had summoned him. The holy white brightness seemed to have disappeared without him realizing it, now replaced by a similar looking white room.

Continuing down his path, the hall of tight space ended at a rock. This lazy boulder had blocked the exit, enraging the crow who would not stand for such callousness. What nerve did this overgrown pebble have pausing his journey? None! With a rude shove, the boulder was moved aside, yet another shutting behind the bird.

The avian was no longer perturbed by such events, especially since the room he had entered was much larger, allowing him to spread his wings. And the avian did spread his wings, enjoying every second of it as the muscle tension eased. With wings at ease, he could happily retract himself and focus on his new location.

In front of the crow was a large container in the container that contained rocks, holes, and sticks to put in the holes to move- the bird caught himself, realizing he was already figuring out what he was to do. Now he was angry, why was he so stupid as to interrupt his own smartness? Nevertheless, he looked at the sticks and at the rocks.

There were three levels, each housing its own prized stone. Each rock was simple and unimpressive, but when you’re a plastic platform whose sole purpose is to hold a rock, you treasure that rock with your non-life! The puzzle itself seemed simple, as the levels were like stairs, and at the lowest level was a shape jutting out of the floor. With each level there was a small platform made of cold, unfeeling metal which the crow could use in tandem with the holes to push the rocks around.

Holding a stick in his mouth, the avian pushed the middle rock to the lowest level causing the shape to sink half-way down. Feedback! The crow fluttered to the top level, pushing that rock down to the middle level, and then pushing it to the bottom. The door to the east opened, leading to a narrow corner that turned into another large container-room.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway corner, the bird analyzed the lab room, realizing he dismissed clearly distinct features. Two tables stood nearby, the left holding rocks while the right owned sticks. On the floor a stick and rock had fallen, laying far from their family but close to their table, as if the tables tried to trade one of their valuables but were inanimate objects and thus unable to do so. Realizing the tables would never complete their trade, he strolled into the next chamber.

Looking up, looking down, looking all around, the bleak fowl found the room to be even roomier than the previous room. It needed to be, as the center was host to a tall scale just shy enough of the ceiling for the crow stand on top with one pan holding a stick. Surrounding the pans were plastic pillars with openings at the top.

It didn’t take long for the avian to piece together this situation was opposite of using sticks to acquire rocks. The previous small container in a container had an opening for a beak to slyly recover the stones and the top of the pan tower had enough room to drop an object.

One pebble in, the pan moved down half-way. Two pebbles in, the crow stuck his beak to grab his prize, but alas it was not to be, for the stick was deviously placed centimeters too low for his jaw to collect. Three pebbles in and he finally had his stick. What was he supposed to do with a stick?

Flying down to the ground, he saw a hole in which the stick fit perfectly, a rock at the end teetering on falling down onto another switch. Pushing the wooden twig far enough to send the rock hurdling off the precipice it stood over precariously required the crow to part ways with his prize. As the switch was pressed, the large and pretentious door opened, letting the crow walk through a tunnel fit for a king, or an eagle maybe. Turning to the left, the little rock sat on the switch. The crow pondered if it was lonely and sad. It was a victim of its own hubris, standing on the cutting edge of the platform, but perhaps it could find friends in the twig.

Remembering that twigs and rocks are neither sapient nor even sentient or living for that matter, the crow realized this was stupid, he was stupid, and proceeded down the hall.

“Ivan Joseph, Day 20:

After only four days the inspector asked me to expand my research. He said he showed others my experiment, something I should’ve asked him not to do, and now they want me to expand, so I did. Admittedly I panicked and went for a safe option in using sticks and rock-based puzzles for the mazes. It was a little tricky getting the crows to start doing the puzzles without immediate rewards, but I managed.

Unfortunately, Sharp had something new to complain about: the room. He didn’t like the dirt I dragged in with the sticks and rocks I stole from the outside world. I told him it was a necessary sacrifice and that it added color to these tyrannical white rooms of blandness. He called me a slob. Still, he was impressed. Now begins to hunt to find original grounds to experiment with.”