Joris Gridharam was a curious little boy. He loved to explore and discover new things. One night, as Joris Gridharam was getting ready for bed, he noticed something strange. The old wooden bed frame creaked and groaned as if it were trying to say something.
"Hello?" asked Joris.
"It's me," replied the bed. "I'm the bed."
Joris was startled. He had never heard his bed speak before.
"What are you doing talking?" he asked.
"I'm talking because I have a story to tell you," said the bed.
"A story?" asked Joris, his eyes wide with excitement.
"Yes," said the bed. "It's a story about my life."
And so, the bed began to tell Joris its story. It told him about the many people who had slept in it over the years. It told him about the secrets that had been whispered in its darkness. And it told him about the dreams that had been dreamed on its soft cushions.
Joris listened intently, his imagination running wild. He loved hearing about the lives of others, and he was fascinated by the stories that the bed had to tell.
When the bed was finished, Joris was sad to see it go. He had enjoyed the stories, and he felt like he had made a new friend.
"Thank you for telling me your story," Joris said. "I'll never forget it."
"You're welcome," replied the bed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
Joris climbed into bed and snuggled down under the covers. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, the stories of the bed still dancing in his head.
The next morning, Joris woke up feeling happy and refreshed. He got out of bed and went to the window. He looked out at the world, and it seemed like a brighter and more beautiful place than it had the day before.
Joris knew that he would never forget the night that the bed spoke to him. It was a night that changed his life, and a night that he would always cherish.