

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
It was on.
Emitting a small chirp, the little orange beast used maximum thrust, hitting top speed as he raced up the Dining Room Straight.
Reaching the Sofa Right, he demonstrated masterful control, twisting and accelerating with some spin, tailfishing as he scabbled for traction on the short hardwood floor Table Straight, then punched left at the Plant Stand. Into the Living Room Complex he flashed, moving left-right-left-right. A short burst carried him on the brief but celebrated Coffee Table Straight to the Back Door Hairpin.
Precisely he executed a narrow spinback by the magazine basket. Then it was back through the gears along the TV Straight, handling the transition from carpet to hardwood floor without a pause. Hard braking and sliding, he made the ninety-degree corner onto the Master Bedroom Straight. Up through the Door Kink he sped, diving under the bed.
Back out the other side of the bed he roared, out the door and down the Linen Closet Straight. The Dining Room Entrance’s hard right was managed with little loss of control. A final sprint for the Foyer start/finish line followed.
He pitted on the Entrance Rug. It’d been a good run, maybe one of the best ever.
He sat and washed in victory.
She brought me a small white plate.
Two dark pieces nestle on it. I stare at them, then shift the stare to her.
I had been smelling them since I came into the house after my coffee house writing session. Chocolate.
K is on a diet. Today is day 30. She is allowed to add one thing today. She added vegan honey to her breakfast amaranth. Now she waits three days to see if there’s a reaction. If a reaction — pain, a flare, stiffness — is experienced, that item is banned from her diet. Forever. Then she resets for a few days and adds another item. If no reaction is felt, she adds another item and waits three days. So it goes.
This means that she can’t eat what’s on the plate.
She’s hosting book club next month. The moderator opted for something lighter for March. Lessons in Chemistry. Bonnie Garmus. Kay is making vegan brownies studded with chocolate chips. These are vegan chips from Trader Joe’s. Vegan butter was used. This is a test batch. A Ghirardelli mix was used.
“Taste these,” she tells me. “Tell me what you think.”
She can’t have them. Diet. Two of the Ashlandians in the book club are vegan.
I force myself to eat a chewy, gooey vegan brownie.
“Wonderful chocolate taste. Not too sweet. Greasy,” I announce. That makes sense to her. There was something about the vegan butter melting and then measuring it again. She didn’t do that. “And they’re not done enough.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Maybe just three.”
She nods. She’ll make another test batch this week.
They go great with black coffee on a winting Ashlandia afternoon. An entire tray waits for me in the kitchen.
I’ll need to pace myself or it might be death by chocolate.
C is for Coffee.
O is for I’ll tell you the rest after I drink my coffee.
As an aspiring fiction writer, his typing, spelling, grammar, and punctuation skills were terrible. His output would be prodigious if he could improve those.
Braggafloofcious (floofinition) – Being boastful about a floof.
In use: “Michael was very braggafloofcious, always telling floof tales about the orange boiz and their many presents, and how high they could jump.”
Upfloofing (floofinition) 1. Increasing the number of animals in a household.
In use: “She’d gone to the shelter to bring home a kitten to keep her dog company after his feline friend passed away, and ended up upfloofing with a bonded set of two kittens and puppy. All seemed joyous to be in one another’s company when they were introduced.”
2. Making changes to a building or furniture to accommodate animal(s).
In use: “Upfloofing the house was done by adding a flooftio on the back where the household pets could safely relax in their own little enclosed area and still enjoy being outside.”
Floofhewn (floofinition) – Something that is in a rough or poor shape because of animal or animals’ activities.
In use: “The floofhewn white sofa had shredded arms and damaged pillows. It was unclear whether it was the dog or the cat, gazing at him with innocence personified, who was the floofpetrator. He suspected teamwork.”