Strategy

She was home. 

He moved into the living room and his little electric heater. He preferred warm air. She (she claimed) liked it ‘normal’. It exasperated the hell out of him. Wasn’t like he was choosing to prefer hot. His need for heat (he’d probably never see that on a movie poster) was derived from injuries, illnesses, and diseases. Life demanded a harsh toll from him.

Hurrying to the heater, he turned it up from low to med. Then, with silent swiftness, he settled into his recliner, grabbed his book, and pretended like her arrival was a surprise.

“Oh, you’re home.”

“Yes.” She talked about things going on outside as she removed her coat. Then, as he turned away, he watched her reflection in the television screen out of the corner of his eye. Soon as she saw his back was turned, she took two long fast steps to the heater and bent over it. A soft click followed.

She bustled away as he turned back. Smiling to himself, he glanced at the heater. On low, just as he preferred.

A happy marriage sometimes required a little guile.

A Spy Dream

Six of us were there, to start, males and females (nobody that I knew), in an old part of a modern city. Sunset had passed. Shadows grew among the narrow bridges and streets wedged in among canals and buildings. Silence grew as businesses closed and people retired to their houses.

We were supposed to be finding our way through the city. I don’t know who the others were, or why we were tasked with this. But the assignment unnerved us. Then, trying to be bolder, one made a decision to go down an alley, thinking that was the right way. We never saw him again.

As the dark grew deeper, we depended on light coming from windows to see. Growing more nervous, the others crowded closer. But, I said, “Wait. I know what’s going on. We’re being tested.” We thought they were testing our direction, but I realized that they were testing our mettle.

Talking it through with the rest, I convinced them that I was right. As they finally agreed, the lights came up. A man lead a group forward. Talking with us, he confirmed that I was right. It was a test, and it was over.

“Follow me,” he directed, leading us into a building. The halls were narrow. He put two of my group into one room, “Because they were done,” and then lead me and two others into another room.

The room wasn’t large. Stereo speakers crowded it. A window allowed people to watch us. Music played. As it played, we were told to select colors from a panel as fast as we could. When this was done, after what seemed like just ten seconds, I was led away.

“Your thinking tells us that you can be a spy,” the man told me as I was led off. “Your respond to music with colors in the same way that trained spies usually respond, so we want to make you a spy.”

I didn’t know who he meant wanted to make me a spy, nor what I was to spy on. Everything was happening with bewildering speed. As he led me forward, he said, “Take off your shirt.” I did, and then he opened another door.

I went in. I was on a stage with a dozen others. A motley collection of people watched from tables and chairs. The man said, “Okay, everyone, these are our spies. You know most of them, but we have one new one. I’m going to introduce them all.”

As he began calling out names, I shivered, because I was cold. I saw that others were studying me and tried to remain nonchalant.

The dream ended.

Floofluid

Floofluid (floofinition) – Able (or willing) to accept different animal species as friends.

In use: “First was the goat, but then came the horse, a rescue from California’s fire-ravaged north. After the goat and horse became friends, they showed how floofluid they were, becoming buddies to a calico cat who stole in and gave birth (and befriending the little kittens), and another rescue, a weary old yellow dog, and then the injured raccoon. Sami didn’t know what to think about her growing collection, but it struck her that something magical seemed to be happening. She began planning a book, The Magic with Animals.”

 

Thursday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music came from another cat moment.

I was speaking with Boo, a backyard panther who wandered into our lives several years ago. He was in great shape so I thought that he must be lost. His people were never found and he stayed with us.

Many issues reside in Boo, dealing with trust, other cats, movement, sounds, etc. He seems a little psycho to us. Sweet but psycho is our description of him.

That’s literally the name of a 2018 Ava Max song, “Sweet but Psycho”. It would’ve been surprising if its melody hadn’t sprung into my stream and on into history as today’s theme music.

“Oh, he’s sweet but a psycho, a little bit psycho.” That’s about all that really fits Boo from the song.

Cheers

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