Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Lumberfloof (floofinition) – 1. Animal who moves in a clumsy, awkward way.
In use: “As kittens, the polydactyl orange tabbies were lumberfloof, tripping over their paw and belly-flopping when attempting jumps, but they soon were agile little speedsters, jumping with Olympian grace and skill.”
2. Animal who climbs trees.
In use: “Many animals are natural lumbefloofs, but Jack the Beagle proved to be one, too, surprising everyone — especially the squirrels.”
Floofpunction (floofinition) – The need to act to help an animal, often driven by principles, morality, a sense of justice, anxiety, or guilt.
In use: ‘She spotted a tiny object on the highway shoulder. Even as she flew past at fifty miles an hour, beginning to brake, turning to see what that was, she realized it was a puppy. Slamming on the brakes, jerking her SUV onto the shoulder, floofpunction caused her to run back, pick up the poor animal and whisper as she held it, “I will take care of you.”‘
This is a twofer. Like a dream medley. To the first.
It was a bizarre sort of celebration. I knew these people in the dream. Some of them were television characters. But none are people from my real life.
We were celebrating in the woods after working on something. Details of why we celebrated are unclear. It almost seemed spontaneous. We’d finished our work and were lounging along a gravel road. All were sweaty and dirty in assorted jeans and tee shirts. All were happy. Someone arrived with beer. Hurray! Let’s all have some beer. Beer was passed out. Someone mentioned some food would be nice. A large brown bag was beside me. I was told to reach into the bag, see what was there. Well, food was there! I passed it out according to requests — candies, chips, sandwiches. Just as we thought we were out of beer and food, more would arrive. So it went for a while.
People slowly took their leave until three of us remained. A woman, me, and a man. The man was tall, white, lanky, short hair, and wore prescription glasses. The woman was short, with tight blonde hair. The woman said that she was going off to get some rope. I gleaned that we meant to explore a cave. Nervousness set in. We didn’t have flashlights. Nor rope. Knew nothing about caves. But, we thought something was in the cave that made it worth exploring.
So the woman drove off in a red jeep. The man restlessly paced. I waited, fidgeting, wondering when she would get back, sometimes leaning across trees, sometimes walking around. The man decided that he was going to ‘pop into a hole’. The hole was part of the cave system. I didn’t think that was a good idea. Tried talking him out of it. But lanky man was insistent. Dismissed all my worries. He was just going into the hole. No, he didn’t have a flashlight but he had his phone.
This sounded like all kinds of bad to me but he proceeded. Went down into the hole, a rough circle in the ground. After lowering himself as far as he could, he hung, then dropped. He was about ten feet down. Too far for me to help him. I peered down in the hole, watching as he turned in study. He was making comments. Then he walked off.
“Where are you going? What are you doing?” I asked him. Basically, he replied that he was exploring. Then he went silent. Out of sight. I shouted down for him; no reply. Anxiety was taking over me.
The woman in the jeep returned. She had flashlights. Rope. I told her what lanky man had done. She was aghast. Called down the hole for him. We began trying to figure out how to secure ourselves and go in to look for him. But she was worried. She knew something of the caves. Knew that they were complicated, uneven, and extensive, with unexpected vertical shafts. We feared that lanky man had fallen into one of the shafts and was injured, maybe unconscious. But the only way we could know was to get in there.
But he’d taken his phone. I called it. It rang from immediately down in the hole. Like he’d left it there. The woman had me tie the rope around her waist. I tied the other end to the Jeep. I was going to lower her so she could look for lanky. We discovered that she couldn’t fit in the hole. I would need to go down. The rope was tied around my waist. I prepared to go down.
Lanky man suddenly appeared on the scene. He’d found an exit. Had left the cave but got lost coming back here.
Dream end.
A carillon chimes the hour. The sun gives it a warm shoulder. She always works her own hours. Two deer digest, still except for ear flicks against flies and shifts to identify sounds. Blue-eyed and black faced, a long-haired blond feline assesses the day and listens to a woodpecker beat out a love sonnet on a wooden utility pole. Acorn treasure in mouth, a squirrel flicks a bushy gray tail and trots along a red-brick wall as two black and blue scrub jays hop across the green grass below him. A warm zephyr dries off forehead sweat and whispers close to ear, “Welcome to autumn.”
Well, here we go.
My wife and I got into a car. This was a used car that she’d bought. Champagne gold color. Small four-door. Japanese manufacturer. She wanted me to drive it. I started it. The engine idled rough. I revved the engine mildly to keep it running. Looked for a choke. Figured out that the air vent in the middle also served as the engine choke. Pulled that out to adjust the idle. Then tried explaining that to her. She wouldn’t pay attention. Didn’t matter; we’d driven across a large parking lot to our destination.
My wife went off to do things. I circulated, looking for something to do. I encountered a group of women. I was young; they were the same age. One of them was immensely attractive to me. Slender. Pale white. Short bobbed dark brown hair. Mild makeup — red lipstick, a little rouge and eye shadow. She wore a black and white top and black pants. I could tell by her smile and look that my interest was reciprocated.
It was a busy place. Like a huge nightclub. We were all drinking. I was getting drunk. I kept circulating, wondering where my wife was, drinking, talking to other men — strangers — and looking for the woman with the dark hair. I’d see her and she’d see me. We’d try to meet to talk. But we never did.
I had to pee. All that drinking. I queued up with other guys to use a restroom. But it was strange. From where I was, I could see toilets not being used. I crashed the line and moved inside.
Weird, weird, weird. No toilets. Iron pedestals on legs, all painted black. I said, “I just need a urinal.” There were no urinals. No sinks. No toilets. No stalls. No piss pots or buckets. But I was certain that I’d seen toilets. Nevermind; I needed to pee.
Woman thronged the sides, watching men pee. Men were embarrassed. I decided that I didn’t care; I needed to pee. I stepped up to one of the funky pedestals. Peed beneath it. My urine was bright yellow and a strong flow. A woman circled around to peek at my junk as I peed. Another woman scolded her for being so bold; the other replied, “I don’t care, I want to see if there’s anything beneath the surface.”
I finished peeing, left, found a place to wash my hands. Then I sat and passed out. Recovering, I decided, I need to leave.
I circled around to where I’d left my brief case with my laptop and other items. The laptop and briefcase were both black. I repacked everything. I discovered I’d been walking around in black socks. I was wearing all black clothes; jeans and a shirt. I had two pairs of shoes. Both were black. Two shoes were shiny dress shoes; the others were flat black activity shoes. I decided I wanted to wear the activity shoes. I sat to put on the shoes. Talked to other men as they went by. They were telling me that they needed to leave. I was agreeing with them, telling them that I was doing the same.
I stood and looked down. Although I planned to wear the activity shoes, I was wearing the shiny dress shoes. Damn it! I sat down, untied and removed the shoes, and went to put on the others. Other people passed. One was the woman with the dark air. We chatted for a minute. I told her that I was leaving. She was disappointed. Wanted me to stay. Sorry, but I needed to go.
I stood. Looked down. I had the wrong shoes on again. Madness! I kicked those shoes off without untying them. Put them in my bag so I wouldn’t put them on again. Sat down to put on the activity shoes. Found I was putting on the dress shoes again. But stopped myself. Put on the right shoes. Joked with myself that putting on shoes shouldn’t be so hard. Packed up the dress shoes. Left.
Dream end.
Floofsense (floofinition) – Animal’s ability to perceive things from a distance and through walls and floors.
In use: “Using his keenly tuned floofsense, Atlas detected a squirrel outside in the yard, downstairs, and raced down to a window to spy on the wily creature, irritating Suzanne, who’d been in bed and just wanted to sleep.”
Floofspread (floofinition) – Animals found on a many people or distributed over a large area.
In use: “Household pets — dogs, cats, and the bird — were floofspread — on the carpet in sunshine, in beds, on chairs and laps, and sprawled across part of the sofa — a happy scene for all concerned, bringing smiles to faces, wags to tails, and purrs to the air.”
