Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Camoufloof (floofinition) – The use of fur and materials employed by a pet or animal to hide and blend in with their surroundings.
In use: “Namaste, Carrie’s golden retriever, adopted the new ginger housefloof named Aloha. Aloha and Namaste quickly partnered in everything, and the shy little feline floof often used camoufloof to sleep unseen in Namaste’s embrace.”
Bathfloof (floofinition) – Animal who insists on being in the bathroom when people are using it.
In use: “T.C. was a notorious bathfloof, insisting on being in the bathroom with everyone, but also getting upset and vocal whenever he was in the bathroom and they closed the door, making bathroom use a challenging prospect for guests.”
Friends and I were gathering to celebrate. What a great experience, to be with friends, right? Yes. There was fourteen of us. The plan was we’d met the night before, sleep over, and then begin the celebration the next morning. Unfortunately, nine white crocodiles were hampering activities.
The crocs ranged from four to seven feet long. They’d been beaten out of the room before but now they were creeping back in. It was an odd sight: white crocodiles moving forward on plush light blue carpet, trying to hide under beds and chairs. Noticing them getting close to a friend, I called out a warning, then grabbed a piece of wood and beat the croc back.
Other crocs were coming in. I told everyone, “Come on, grab a stick, beat them back. If we don’t, they’ll be there, waiting to get us in the morning.” Finding bats, sticks, lumber in this plush room, we beat the crocs back together.
We left the room to begin the celebration. I kept a stick with me, just in case. We went outside and sat together at a dark green picnic table. A parade was going by. We were honoring MH and MQ. MH was there with us, but MQ had passed away almost six years before. We decided we’d drink something in MQ’s honor. Well, his favorite drink was compardri, someone declared, producing a thick red drink in a champagne flute. I’d never heard of the drink and had never seen MH drink it or mention. Well, whatever, though.
Two women were assigned to assist me. They sat down on either side of me and promised that they’d make sure I’d have things to eat and drink. I thanked them. MH talked about going to get something to eat. The parade was still going on, so we decided to drink more. MH asked me what I wanted to drink. I indicated I’d stick with the compardri.
MQ showed up. I was delighted to see him. He handed me a phone. I didn’t want to talk on the phone and told him. He answered, “I think you want to take this call,” with that gentle voice and smile he often employed.
I accepted the phone and said hello. A woman said, “Thank you for caring about our older people.” She then went into a short but boring speech. As I prepared to hang up, she said, “MQ was given two fellowships, and he’s chosen to bestow one of these on you.” As I realized what was being said, shock hit and I began crying in gratitude. I said, “I don’t deserve this.” MQ, standing beside me, looked at me and smiled. Ed Sherrin’s song, “Perfect”, began playing.
Yeah, weird song to finish with.
Metfloofica (floofinition) – Califloofia metal flock (floof rock) band formed in Floof Angeles in 1981. They rode their aggressive yet melodic style to form, finding significant commercial success with their third album, and developing an international following that made them one of the most popular bands of all time.
In use: “Metfloofica’s third album, Master of Floofets, (which included a song by the same title) was released in 1986 and was hailed by some critics as a masterpiece.”
Apresfloof (floofinition) – 1. Period of mourning after losing a floof.
In use: “Apresfloof was difficult as he looked for his companion each morning, ready to follow the greeting and feeding ritual of the last twelve years, a ritual no longer needed.”
2. Time of worry when a pet disappears.
In use: “Apresfloof began that night, when Skunky didn’t return from his prowls as he’d done every night. Wilson began a watch, going into the cold night every hour to call the cat’s name.”
3. The initial days after adding an animal to the household.
In use: “The first days can be difficult as humans and pet experience apresfloof and learn to trust one another.”
I’m swearing about modern technology again. It’s all so easy, so taken for granted, they have groomed me to complain.
Today’s target is my Fitbit. It needs recharged, again. Every few days, this takes place. I wear the thing almost 24/7, removing it only to save it from the showers. The rest of time finds it hugging my right wrist, monitoring my activity. Sure, it sends me an email when it needs recharged. That email arrives at 1:30 to 2:00 AM. I supposed, if I’m more rigorously disciplined and attentive, I can train myself to check it each night when I’ve reached my goal and see how much remains on the charge. Yeah, I could, but I’m lazy.
“It wouldn’t need to be recharged so much if you didn’t keep using it,” my wife observes.
A growl is given back. This is not time for humor. Charging the fitbit means removing it from my wrist and waiting while it charges. While it charges, I’m not collecting steps. My goal each day is twelve miles. It’s a new goal every morning, achieved every night. No, I haven’t walked it, didn’t run it, swim it, bike it; it’s an accumulation of twelve miles of activities, twelve miles achieved each day, something tangible.
Writing is different. I use word counts as mileposts but they don’t matter. I may have added words but the novel isn’t finished. I’m not certain how close to being done it is. I have guesses which makes sense, but I know, even when it’s ‘done’, it isn’t done. It needs revised and edited. Even then, it’s not done. It’s not published, not finalized in some concrete form. Until it reaches that final moment, it remains a work in progress. It’s like going from Earth to Mars; it’s gonna take a while.
So, I pursue my twelve miles every day, a goal established each morning, something achieved each night, something to make me feel good, damn it.
I felt like the sole adult in this dream, hence the title. I seemed to be visiting Mom’s home, at least, at first. It’s not like any house that she lived in. She was there, however, along with sisters, wife, and many others.
The first act found me looking around Mom’s home with dismay. She always kept a clean and organized house; this place, although big, didn’t fit that description. As others were talking, I stared at something in an upper corner of the room. It appeared to be a giant cobweb. I called that to Mom’s attention. When she went to clean it, she discovered that it was an old Halloween decoration that she’d put up. She thought it so pretty, she left it up there.
The family, including me, dispersed to do other things. I remained dissatisfied about the state of the house, and walked around looking for impressions to vet my conclusion. It seemed like people weren’t paying attention to it. Crossing into the dining room, I discovered the floor was soaking wet. So was the furniture. In fact, water was splashing on the floor through the open window. I gathered that the sprinkler had been turned out with a window left open, and that the sprinkler had been left running.
I fetched Mom to show her what was going on, telling her to walk into the room so that she could see for herself. When she exclaimed about the floor being wet, I showed her the open window and the sprinkler. Then I told her that this was what I meant by people not paying attention to details, not thinking.
That ended act one. The next act began in the same location, but with new features, people, and furniture. Young adults were being prepped for a test. I had an impression that I was a visiting uncle. I barely knew these four young people. They were experiencing trouble with some of the test prep. Every once in a while, though, they’d break out singing the Queen song, “Somebody to Love”. They did a good job of it, too. But singing that song was disrupting their test prep.
Moving in, I stopped the singing and reminded everyone that they were preparing for a test. Then I pulled out one of the books and put it on a table. The table was one of many, a square made for one person. But the four nieces and nephews pulled up chairs and sat around this one table as I explained what the problem was about and how to solve it. They picked it up quickly and then began studying in earnest. I made the suggestion that since the test was open book, they have the book opened to that particular page, ready. That thought that was a great idea.
I then backed away and observed to one of their parents, “They do know that they need to be at separate desks, don’t they, and have separate books?” After he confirmed that was true, I suggested that they go ahead and set up like that. They did that. I walked to the door to leave. As I did, one nephew began singing “Somebody to Love” again. As the others took up the song, I interrupted and reminded them that they needed to get ready for the test. Then I left.
Outside the place, I passed a small, pale yellow school. About a dozen teenage girls were in front of it, complaining that they were bored and had nothing to do. They seemed about the ages of my nieces and nephews, back getting ready for the test. These two groups should come together, I thought. They’d be good for one another.
I returned to the test area, intent on telling them that. As I came in, one nephew began singing, “Somebody to Love”.
Dream end.
Floofthos (floofinition) – Quality in an animal that evokes sadness or pity.
In use: “Many animals who become pets learn to use floofthos to get what they want from humans, such as looking up with big puppy eyes.”
It was Valentine’s Day, ten PM. The blinds were down. Thumping came from beside the house. Squeaking ensued. Definitely an animal noise. I turned. Outside lights detected motion and lit the area.
I pulled the blinds up. The squeaking came from a skunk, our skunk, as we call her. Haven’t formally named her yet but we know her by her tail, which looks like a well-used white toilet brush.
Furious squeaking kept going. She was jumping and darting briskly around. I zipped into the other room to bring my wife to the spectacle. Not much was on television and I’d just finished reading my book.
“What’s she doing?” my wife asked.
“I think she’s fighting with something.”
“I think she has a mouse.”
The skunk jumped back, leaped to one side, and twirled. “I don’t see a mouse. I think she’s fighting with something else.”
Our skunk turned and rushed away. There was no mouse. As we stood to consider what we’ve seen, another skunk darted out from under the house. Bigger than our skunk, I’d seen ‘him’ before. “Look.” I pointed him out. “I think she was fighting him. They sometimes fight.”
My wife was nodding. “Yes. I read that females will reject males and sometimes spray them in a defensive action.”
“So he came a-callin’…”
“And she said, no thank you.” The skunk disappeared. The lights went off. My wife turned away. “I think she doesn’t want him because she’s in love with Boo.” Boo is our big black cat with a single white star on his chest.
I remained doubtful. I began lowering the blind. The light appeared. ‘He’ appeared. He looked up at me.
I nodded down at him. “Tough luck, brother. Can you go somewhere else?”
He scurried off into the night. The light went off. I finished lowering the blind on the theater and began wondering what I was going to watch on the telly.
Live theater is so much better.
