Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He’d watched the weather. Falling snow shifted from pellets to fat flakes to faint flakes.
The snow stopped. A rising sun melted it all away. Steam lifted from the cement and asphalt.
A hummingbird flew up to the plants under his window. Zipping between each offering, it didn’t land, hurrying on to another set of plants.
A hummingbird. In winter. He knew it was possible and shouldn’t surprise him, but it was a first for him.
He encountered his neighbor as she walked her son’s dog. “Happy Saturday,” she called.
He responded in the same. She enthused, “It’s a gorgeous day.”
Both looked up at the blue sky and sun. Yes, he agreed, and told her that Alexa said it was foggy and to expect rain showers throughout the day.
She laughed. “That wouldn’t surprise me. It’s probably coming. I don’t care. I’m just enjoying this now.”
Scintillating sunshine sprawls across Ashlandia. I’m out of bed with the thought, must be after eight with all this sunshine. No, it’s seven. That’ll change tomorrow.
I ask Alexa for Ashlandia’s weather. “Thirty-six with fog,” she tells me. “Rain showers throughout the day.” I study the clear blue sky as she finished, “High of 56.” I see no fog anywhere in the valley or the hills and mountains. Machine is smoking something again.
Sunrise was at 6:30 this morning. Sunset will be at 6:13. It’s Saturday, March 11, 2023.
We took a friend shopping yesterday. Macular degeneration stops her from driving herself and her husband is extremely limited with multiple health issues, including COPD. He’s always on O2. Took her to Target, Trader Joe’s, Costco. She tipped us with a nine pack of Charmin from the package bought at Costco.
Also stopped at the latest sensation, Crumbs, a cookie place. Bought a five-dollar gourmet. Good cookie, tasty and quality, but not worth five dollars. Also not the most expensive cookie I’ve ever eaten.
With all that sunshine surrounding them, The Neurons came up with “Sunshine”, a 2021 song from OneRepublic. It’s a bouncy tune about sunshine and good vibes and making efforts to change things and be pos.
[Chorus]
Runnin’ through this strange life
Chasin’ all them green lights
Throwin’ off the shade for a little bit of sunshine
Hit me with them good vibes
Pictures on my phone like
Everything is so fine
A little bit of sunshine
[Verse 1]
Crazy lately I’m confirmin’
Tryna write myself a sermon
You just tryna get a word in, life is not fair
I been workin’ on my tunnel vision
Tryna get a new prescription
Takin’ swings and even missin’ but I don’t care
[Pre-Chorus]
I’m dancin’ more just a little bit
Breathin’ more just a little bit
Care a little less just a little bit
Like life is woo-hoo!
I’m makin’ more just a littlе bit
Spend a little more to gеt rid of it
Smile a little more and I’m into it
h/t Genius.com
That’ll work for today’s theme music. Like the song urges, smile a little more, care a little less. Be pos. Coffee is served. Here we go.
Cheers
I begin in off-white thermal underwear. I dance through town, this place in which I RL live. Early spring is in effect. I leap and pirouette, twirl and bow.
An artist brush is in my hand. I flicked colors at things, dipping my brush in the colors already available, making everything bolder, brighter, sharper. Although it goes on for a while, that’s all to the dream.
It’s a younger version of me, a hybrid between my teenage self and my middle-aged individual. I smile thoughout the dream.
I land in another dream. I’m with another man. We’re in blue hospital scrubs. I know, I’m a med tech. We’re in a small city. Situated on several hills, a bay embraces the land. It’s a busy place, full of hurrying traffic, vehicular and on-foot.
A hue rises from a hospital on the hill. One of my peers shouts, “It’s a success.”
I am jealous. I wanted to be part of that. I feel cheated.
But I congratulate him and the rest and spread the news of the success. It was an arduous and dangerous operation but the patient was doing well. We were pleased. We’d helped develop catheters which saved the patient. This was their first use.
A surgeon came, gloved and masked. “They worked well,” he said. “They want some at the other facility.”
“I’ll take them,” I declare, picking up a brown box of them.
The surgeon says, “They need to be cut, shorter, and narrower.”
“I’ll do that,” I reply.
I begin walking. Balancing the box, I employ a scalpel and start precisely cutting the pale white catheters. My peer follows, saying, “Let me do something. You can’t carry the box and cut the catheters.”
But I am, continuing as we weave our way through crowds.
“The catheters are bleeding,” the other tech says.
I nod. “That’s normal. These are partly organic. That’s why they work.”
End dreams.
My wife and I were visiting a pop musician. Male, no one real but a dream personality. I didn’t know him but ended up spending time with him by his choice. He then invited me to go on tour with him.
I laughed. He told me he was serious. I protested that I didn’t know anything about touring, concerts, etc., but he didn’t care. He’d make a position for me, pay me, cover my expenses. He thought I’d contribute by talking to him and giving him feedback.
I shrugged and accepted. Nothing ventured, right. We’d be leaving next week. I was pleased.
It was a Friday. My wife and I traveled on to somewhere else as a weekend getaway. We ended up at an opulent, opulent resort. We were a little anxious about the price. I met a man, big and bluff, white, with a graying and thin short burr cut. He weighed over two hundred pounds and stood almost seven feet tall. A barrel-shaped man, he carried his weight well.
He and I began chatting. Turned out he owned the resort and was a wealthy entrepreneur. He was going away on a business trip. Wanted me to accompany him. He thought I’d add a lot to his attendance at the event. I disagreed, citing all the practical reasons why I shouldn’t go. He suggested that I think about it for a while and talk it over with my wife, taking us to a room.
Golden walls and golden pillows dominated this room. We knew it was specially designed for resting, with filtered air and heavy soundproofing. Despite large windows, which showed verdant valley and mountain scenery, outside sounds weren’t heard.
We sat on the pillows to talk but then I needed to pee. I jumped up to find a bathroom but started peeing without control. My pee was weirdly golden. I peed so much that we soon had a two pools with a lively little stream connecting them.
I panicked. “What am I going to do? My pee is everywhere. It’s ruining everything.” As I spoke, the golden pillows absorbed my pee.
My wife and I were a little freaked. What if that’s why the pillows were golden?
We left the room. The entrepreneur asked if I’d made a decision. I told him I’d love to go but I had a previous commitment next week. He replied that he’d have me back for the other trip and that wasn’t a problem.
Dream end
Note: Yes, I did get up and pee after I awoke – cat wanted in or out, you know…
He was thinking about buying an electric vehicle, so he was reading reviews. One car manufacturer proclaimed that their cars can be recharged at any EVgo station. He researched EVgo. They have charging stations in 34 states in the U.S. Going to their website, he searched for their recharging stations in his area. None found.
Back to the drawing board.
“Snow is really coming down now.”
“Yep, it’s really falling.”
That’s how my wife and I talk about the snow. We’re both in our sixties and learned these sharp-edged snow statements from our parents and every other adult we were around in childhood. We’re not alone. If I say one of those statements to friends my age and above, they’ll respond with the other. Like we’re programmed.
It’s Saturday, March 4, 2023. The snow is really falling. As opposed to? Not really falling? It’s 34 F out there. Volume builds up, turning Ashlandia’s Clay Street neighborhood white. But soon as volume diminishes by a flake, it all melts away. Can’t say what’s happening in the rest of the town. I checked the cameras. We have one at the plaza downtown, 2.4 miles north. Snowing there, but not ‘sticking’, to use the meteorological term. Also surveyed the I5 cameras with the town’s exits. Traffic is thin and moving. No one in the chain-up areas. Supposed to snow most of the day, except when it’s raining. High temperature will be 42 F. As you might guess, the sun is as scarce as a Democrat at a Trump rally. White clouds rule.
Sunrise surprised us — not — we were ready — at 6:41 this morning. Daylight’s end arrives shortly after the sun’s departure at 6:04 PM.
The Neurons have Melissa Manchester singing her cover of “Don’t Cry Out Loud”, 1978, in the morning mental music stream. It’s one of two songs playing, taking turns with grave politeness. Other one is “View to A Kill”, Duran Duran, 1985. It’s all about the night’s dreams.
Stay pos. and watch out where the huskies go. My coffee is at hand, reinforcing my low energy levels. Here we go. Time to start the Saturday circus.
Here’s Melissa. Have a strong day. Cheers
He read in a paper, “…they were laying down on their stomach.” He frequently reads sentences like that and wonders, is down necessary? Could they be laying up or in another way? It seems redundant.
Like that phrase so constantly heard, “I was thinking in my head.” Like, where else do you think? Explain.
Snow men, women, and children guard the college dorms, apartment buildings, and many residences. The sun retreats behind clouds in the face of such numbers.
Michael Seidel, writer 