Month: May 2019

Hot

The heat wasn’t that bad. He thought that people were exaggerating, the way they gasped, shrieked, and ran, sweat running down their faces, eyes bulging and mouth gaping like they were imitating fish out of the water, as their clothes ignited.

A Volvo, BMW, and Jeep exploded as they passed him. Street lights drooped like limp noodles. Flames sprang from nothing to consume trees as the grass turned into black ash and a yellow fire hydrant lost its shape, issuing arcing geysers of water that turned into steam and blew away. Buildings began melting and crumbling.

Smiling, he shook his head and looked at the black-smoke inferno spreading behind him. If they thought this was bad, they should experience what he’d just been there.

Now that had been hot.

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Just Mine

Debby told me and Emi a story when we were all visiting Mom for her birthday. This was about twenty-five years ago. Debby had a habit of making a coffee drink at home in the morning and topping it with whipped cream. She’d then go out into her Florida home’s backyard to enjoy it. Trying to rebuild her life, she’d started going to college while working at night, leaving her children up north for their grandparents to raise them.

A squirrel approached her during one of her early mornings. Debby thought the squirrel was interested in her drink. Debby put some whipped cream on a spoon and offered it to the squirrel. The squirrel hopped over to her and lapped it up.

That started a daily habit. Debby and the squirrel met every morning to share a spoonful of whipped cream. Their ritual continued for four years. Then, one morning, she went into the back yard and found the squirrel dead.

Debby’s life had been a struggle since a brutal assault in Jacksonville had taken place in her early twenties. She kept trying to rebuild, and kept getting knocked back. After a miscarriage, she endured a three year stretch that saw a business bankruptcy, personal bankruptcy, and divorce because her husband was unfaithful and a drug abuser. Then she learned that her husband hadn’t been paying taxes to the IRS for over three years. The squirrel had been a symbol of change. Now the squirrel was dead.

Debby cried when she told the story. Emi and I cried when we heard it.

Come forward to last week. Mom had passed away. Home to make her funeral arrangements, Debby, Emi, and I were remembering our lives with Mom. Debby recalled how her parents had taken her children in, so I mentioned the squirrel tale, because it was part of that same era.

Debby looked blank. “Nope. Wasn’t me.”

Emi said, “I don’t remember ever hearing that before in my life.”

Their response stunned me. I guess the memory was just mine.

It really makes me wonder.

 

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First Floof

First Floof (floofinition) – informal or ceremonial title given to the housepet which has preferential standing.

In use: “She’d always had cats. Daisy came to her when her son went to war and never returned. Showing remarkable intelligence — for a dog, in her opinion — Daisy quietly became her loyal First Floof and was by her side when she went to sleep and didn’t wake up, staying there until the police came on a welfare check.”

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Today’s song came about as a choice between it and a Shawn Mendes. A young girl with me was listening to Shawn Mendes’ song, “Stitches”, in my dream, and there were reports that a strange man was lurking outside of our building. In my dream, I assumed that this clumsy device foreshadowed Shawn Mendes showing up. I wasn’t surprised when he did, although the rest of my dream people were all happy and surprised. I don’t know he showed up. It seemed like some sitcom playing in my head.

But the Beatles’ “I Am the Walrus” (1967) replaced the Mendes’ tune. I decided to go with it. I went with the Beatles because Walrus part of the “Magical Mystery Tour”, a very strange movie. I was eleven when this song and album came out, and it left its mark on me. After a night of strange dreams, I felt it apropos for my Saturday theme music.

 

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Inspirational Quote # 1375

My own thoughts, too. I don’t stop. I think that if I do stop, I won’t start again.

Today, You Will Write's avatarToday, You Will Write

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Floofnet

Floofnet (floofinition) – 1. Quantum communications systems used by animals to share information such as gossip, homes that give out food and treats, and warnings of danger. 2. World wide web that’s devoted to animals.

In use: “People always assumed that animals sniffed one another to pass messages and learn more. The reality is that such behavior was respected by the animals as an ancient tradition, although they admitted that it was also part of their disinformation campaign to keep humans ignorant of their abilities. They’d long before replaced sniffing with the floofnet, an almost instantaneous method of sharing information across long distances.”

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Karma’s Ripples

He knew exactly what’d taken place.

The firefight wound down. Adrenalin still scorched his nerves, numbed his muscles, and drove instincts and senses. The others were in front of him. “Rat-a-tat-tat,” he said, shooting into his comrades’ backs. Laughter poured out of him as they jerked. “Rat-a-tat-tat.”

That was it. They were dead. He was alive. He’d enjoyed it, to be truthful. Killing felt good. Killing was the best way to set yourself free. He put his rifle in another dead man’s hand. “Bang, bang,” he said to the dead man, what’s his name? Why’d the dead have names? They’d never use them.

One sat up to his left. He didn’t see. Later, he knew, because he was the one, the one who’d killed, the one who was the killer, and the one who came back to kill the killer. Karma’s ripples were bigger than he’d known or suspected.

Sitting up, a temporary life in a dead man, he watched himself laugh as he remembered laughing, and then pointed the assault rifle at himself and emptied the magazine into himself, regretfully smiling as he jerked, gushed blood, and finally sank to the floor. Even so injured, he managed to turn his head and look at him. His lips moved, but he didn’t speak. He remembered, though, that he’d been about to say, “You,” because he knew, he knew.

It was really a mercy. With that done, he left the dead man and the site, returning to the bardo from whence he’d come. At last, he felt peace. At last, all the voices in his head fell quiet. At last, all the dead left him alone.

At last, karma’s ripples died.

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Wolfloofrine

Wolfloofrine (floofinition) – 1. a heavily built housepet whose appearance, behavior, or both, reminds people of a wolverine. 2. Slang for a housepet that resides in Michigan. 3. Housepet that acts like a tough anti-hero but is often a private sweetheart.

In use: “A classic mutt of confusing breeds like that found in an animal shelter, the dog’s wolfloofrine appearance and attitude made him difficult to adopt, but Shannon saw him, and it was love at first lick. She named him Logan, of course.”

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