Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Flooping (floofinition) – To follow an animal or to repeatedly circle back to an animal to check on its health or to play with it.
In use: “He was supposed to leae for work at 7, but his dog was sick, so he called in sick, staying home and flooping back throughout the morning to his pet to see how she was doing.”
It was another military dream but with a marked difference. First, a friend, Jeff, who was also in the military was in the dream.
I was at some unidentified Air Force base. I was a chief master sergeant, E9, and was due to attend a conference of CMS that was due to start. (This is two ranks above my RL retired rank.) I worried about my hair, my uniform, and my shoes as attendees began arriving. But I slipped away and pressed my uniform, taking care of that, putting razor sharp creases in it. Then I stayed low until the barber opened. When I walked into the barber shop, there were two barbers and no customers, so either one could immediately cut my hair. Both knew me by name.
After getting my hair cut, I left the shop and looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and old. I said to myself, those aren’t my shoes, and they immediately changed into highly polished new shoes.
I felt a lot better about myself. I ran into Jeff, also a CMS. He and I chatted. I ended up telling him about a cousin who died of cancer (a cancer did die of cancer in RL). We were walking around as we talked. Female military spouses were all over the place, and they kept flirting with me. The attention flattered me.
Jeff and I stayed together through the morning, sitting down and eating. Then the conference was due to start. Another CMS came up and asked if I was going, because it was getting under way. I told him that I’d left the military twice and came back twice, but now I’m done. I wasn’t going to attend. I was taking off my uniform and leaving.
I went off to find a bathroom. When I found one, I undressed and then peed and discovered that my pecker was half purple. One of the wives walked in on me. While taking a long look at my body, she apologized for entering. I replied, “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering why my penis is half purple.”
Dream end.
It may be a new year, but it was the same him. His resolutions weren’t changed. He would slot time each day to read as well as time to put his rear into a chair and sit down to write. His resolutions were still to coax the muses to come and help him, write a novel, and then edit and publish it.
He didn’t think those resolutions would ever change.
A new position for me had been offered and accepted, and this was my first day. I continued writing around my work schedule. I asked for and gained permission to use work facilities for my writing.
My work location was a towering and modern white edifice, churchy in its serenity, very peaceful. The position was as a research assistant. Basically, I was staff to several teachers. I would go to the modern library and go through the ancient information which was stored there. Docents, librarians, and other assistants were in the library to help me find and understand my research and take it back to the requesting teacher.
For my writing, I used the facilities to create a gigantic digital white board. I found that I could speak to the computer and rearrange things on that white board. Two to three stories tall, it was a dozen feet wide. One of the women I worked for was a previous college professor who taught a creative writing class that I attended in RL. When she saw my writing board, she was immensely curious and complimentary, asking if I could make something like that available to others. Of course I could. I would get right on it.
Not so fast. She fast had a project for me researching a woman named Alice Fingersmith. I knew the last name. I’d read a book by that name and saw a television series based on the movie. I wondered if I’d heard right.
After going to the library, I asked the staff where to go to best start my research. Seeing that I was drinking kombucha, the male staff member, a tall and young fellow, offered to make me orange flavored kombucha because he thought I would like it. The female, who looked and acted just like Poppy from Mystic Quest (the RL Apple TV series), showed me where to find information on Alice Fingersmith.
Fingersmith’s information should be in a low, wooden filing cabinet. The cabinet was so low I needed to get on my knees to open the drawers and look in them. Finding the right one, based on last names, I pulled the drawer open and rifled through the files until I came to a place holder for Alice Fingersmith’s files. There were only small scraps of paper within. I drew a few out and then read them.
Poppy and the male staff member came to me. As he gave me my orange drink, she asked how I was doing. I told them about the files, showing them, and drank the orange drink, finding it very tasty. They were puzzled about why the file was empty as it was and decided they would request a search to see if others in the system had Fingersmith info or knew why information was missing from the file.
I’d been looking at the scraps of paper in the file. I realized the requesting teacher and Fingersmith may have been lovers. I thought the teacher would prefer discretion so I told the two to hold off. Then I took the papers I’d found and went to find the instructor.
Dream end.
It’s a beautiful non-snowy winter day out there. Plants are shimmering and swaying to the wind’s music like it was a 1960s Motown cover band.
It’s a brand-new Monday, Jan 2, 2023. Time to carpe Monday. Sunrise is listed as the same time as yesterday but it felt like it might have been a few wingbeats earlier. The temperature has steadily climbed to 39 F. Clouds filter the sunshine but the sun has a new year’s resolution to be a little brighter and warmer for us in January, so it’s out there trying. The hot part of the day comes later, when we’ll see 44 F. The sun will continue on its journey out of our valley at 4:50 PM, because new year or not, the Earth plans to keep on rotating. Rain is expected.
“Brand New Day” by Sting (1999) seemed like a natural for The Neurons. Looking out at the Monscape, the song rose into the morning mental music stream. Sitting beside me, the cats began singing and swaying to the beat. I may have imagined that part; I really don’t think they could have carried the tune as well as it seemed.
I’m off to carpe some coffee. Stay pos, test neg. Remember, today is the first day after the last day. Here’s Sting with his music. Cheers
Well, we did it, we crossed the midnight Rubicon into a brave new world. Which, ah, looks quite a bit like the old world, unless you squint past the fog. Even then, the house across the street and the street and all the bushes and trees surrounding them are not new. But it was a new sunrise, which, admittedly, can be said every day. But this wall calendar is new, so take that, you scoffers.
Welcome to New Year’s Day, January 1, 2023. It is all about attitude, this New Year thing, innit? But the same can be said about every day. It’s a new day, with a new chance, a day which will never be experienced again, unless, of course, we solve the whole time-travel dilemma and find ways to go into the past, or it’s revealed that reality is much looser than the tidy order of days on a calendar and hours on a clock. So live for now as if it is new, right? Why not.
Sunrise was at 7:40 AM. Sunset will come at 4:50 PM. It’s 37 degrees F outside. Rain, with a high of 41 F, is expected. A dip in temperatures is coming this week. Nothing severe. No snow.
We went out to dinner with friends last night. The restaurant, open for thirty-five years, is closing. That was its last day. It served Thai food, and it was delicious. I thought it had been there for less time, but I was wrong. Then, dancing at an old hotel where an old band played music from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. We danced, but not on the dance floor. One of our group was wearing her Apple watch. It warned her that the music was dangerously loud, 98 decibels. Adjusting, we danced in the corner by our table and had fun.
I’m using an old song, from all the way back in 1983, “New Year’s Day” by the Irish band, U2. Not much more to say about it on New Year’s Day.
Here’s the music. I’m going to get a new cup of coffee in an old cup. Feels like a good metaphor for something. Stay positive. Test negative. Press on. Cheers.
Michael Seidel, writer 