Have you ever been about to eat something when your cat comes up to smell it, so you let them sniff it, and they draw back with a dismayed look, and then seem to look disappointed that you’re still going to eat this food that smells bad to them?
No? Is it just me, then?
Floofing (catfinition) – slang for when a cat curls up against the curve of a human body to sleep.
In use: “The big Maine Coon loved floofing with her, and she enjoyed it, too, running her hand over his furry belly as the thrum of his purr vibrated against her torso.”
A fraction of this song got trapped in an eddy of my mind stream. “Who is this?” I kept asking myself, but could only remember some words, and none of it seemed connected to a place and time in my life.
Not fully recalling it bugged me so I did searched until it was resolved. (I’m peculiar that way.) The song is “Ordinary World,” performed by Duran Duran. That’s what kept me confused. As a Duran Duran song, it’s not associated with anything else of their music that I’ve heard. It came out in 1992, so I was back in America, stationed at Onizuka Air Station and living in Mountain View.
The lines that kept going through my head this morning were,
And I don’t cry for yesterday
There’s an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Billy got hit by a truck, he says.
He thinks, a truck hit Billy, but he doesn’t say anything. The other is still speaking in slow, backwoods twangs and drawls.
Boy, do I remember that day. We were standing on one side of the road, by the school entrance. Billy was on the other side. He saw us and got this big grin. One of them big-ass coal trucks was hauling ass toward us, but Billy started running across the road. It was all so fast, I didn’t even have time to shout or think. The truck driver slammed on his brakes. The tires locked up in screaming smoke, and the brakes were grinding and squealing in what seemed like forever. I swear to God, I saw Billy turn and look at the truck at the last second, like he’d just realized it was there. Then the truck took Billy down the road.
His shoe flew off. I saw it fly away, like a damn bird. It landed off the side of the road. Then the truck was stopped, and it was all quiet for, I don’t know, it seemed like forever, but it wasn’t. Then someone shouted, Billy, and we all started running for the truck.
His blue eyes get still and wide, staring far off across time and space. Man, I remember that day like it was yesterday, he says.
He’s thinking about the day. He needs to dress, which means walking to the bedroom, fifty-eight steps. He’ll walk around downtown. It’s eight hundred steps from the plaza to the library.
Do you want to see a movie? she asks.
I don’t know, he answers. What’s playing?
She reads him a list with the playing times.
I don’t know, he says. Let me think about it.
Instead, he thinks walking to the movies, thirty-two hundred steps. He thinks about getting a drink of water in the kitchen, twenty-one steps.
Something is wrong, he thinks, getting up. Something has gone awry. Counting steps, he goes into the other room. He was supposed to do something there, but it fades away under the count. He walks around the room for a quarter mile, four hundred and fifty steps, and then returns to the other room.