A monument to remaining seated
Every minute adds weight. Every plan loses leverage.

HEAVY INU begins each day exactly where he ended the last one. Breakfast arrives. Gravity handles the filing. By noon, the floor has accepted a permanent assignment. Visitors suggest a walk; he considers this a failure of planning. Nothing dramatic happens. The important work is cumulative: one snack, one sigh, one additional reason for furniture to remain professionally concerned. The chair no longer asks questions. The rug has stopped negotiating.
There is no finish line. The procedure repeats until motion becomes a rumor, the room adjusts its expectations without complaint, and the floor takes over long-term planning.
HEAVY INU remains where placed.