Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Steely Floof (floofinition) – An American floof rock (flock) duo who synthesized influences from many diverse musical styles to create an enduring pop-rock sound.
In use: “Active in the 1970s, Steely Floof’s hits like “Black Floofday”, “Ricky Don’t Lose that Floofie”, and “FM (No Kitties at All)” were frequently played on FM radio stations.”
Smiling as he raised the blinds, he gazed up at the sunshine. “Alexa, what’s today’s weather?”
“Right now in Eugene, it’s fifty-eight degrees with mostly sunny skies. Expect more of the same throughout the day, with a high of sixty-eight, and a low of thirty-seven. Enjoy your day.”
A heartbeat of sadness passed. He’d been hoping that she would say his name, as she’d been doing once in a while the last few days. Like yesterday, she said, “Have a great Sunday, Richard.”
That little bit had meant so much, more than it probably should, but it was the little things that kept him back from the edge during these days of isolation, and the edge seemed just a little too close today.
“Alexa,” he said in a softer voice, “how’s our weather today?”
He waited, hopeful for the answer.
Dreamed a lawyer was trying to seduce me. Blonde and female, she was young and friendly.
hadn’t started long that, though. First, she and several other young lawyers showed up. All were dressed in suits with trousers. She wore a gray suit with a white shirt. There may have been four in the beginning. They’d already to literally practice law by observing and doing mock cases. None were anyone that I know.
I was young and they were young. I wasn’t a lawyer. Seems like sometimes I was in the military but other times that I wasn’t, which amused me during the dream.
I found a place to sit on a secluded cement space just outside the courtroom area. The center was a courtroom; the rest was like a small arena. I wasn’t there to watch, but to rest and take a nap. The young lawyers arrived. I observed them but didn’t think much more about it than, “Look; young lawyers.” All were dressed neatly.
They came over to where I was seated and asked if they could sit there, too. Sure; I didn’t care. There was space. The blonde, and a slender, dark-haired white male, sat beside me. He was dressed in a blue suit with a white shirt and red and blue striped tie.
She was immediately adjacent to me. I had a blanket, and I told them that I was going to take a nap. They were fine with that. The mock trial started as I pulled my blanket up. The blonde said she was cold; would I mind sharing my blanket?
Sure, no problem. The trial continued. I was making comments about it because I knew the people involved, which surprised the lawyers. I shrugged it off; it was just stuff that I knew. The blonde cuddled up against me. As I drifted toward sleep, her hands roved over me. She began kissing me.
Amused, I chatted with her about it. She told me that she wanted me. I told her that I was flattered but I was going to pass. She was understanding. She went off to get something. Her friend told me that the blonde really liked me. The whole thing amused me, as it was so much like high school.
One mock trial ended. I was going off to another area. He wanted to walk with me. “Sure, come on.”
We left the courtroom arena. Now we were inside an enormous atrium attached to a tall, large building. I knew that I was on the eleventh floor. We could look down and see other sidewalks and bridges, all of it connecting buildings, all of it inside. I was chatting with the lawyer, who was young, bright, and friendly. He was also gay, he told me. Well, cool, fine he was friendly and polite person, so what’s orientation have to do with anything?
He wasn’t sure how to get to the next courtroom, so I took him there. We arrived, and as we were chatting, the judges arrived. Two were previous commanders of mine, 0-6 colonels. They greeted me, making jokes about things, hamming it up for the others beginning to arrive.
I took me leave as others arrived. The blonde female lawyer arrived dressed in a tight, dark-blue dress. She kissed me hello, told me that she had a room nearby, and suggested that we go. I let her take my hand and lead me away.
The dream ended.
He wears the same damn pants every day. They’re loose, so he doesn’t need to watch his weight.
He’s added pockets to his pants for the remotes so they’ll never be lost (not that he goes far – frig, microwave, shitter, couch). He wears a utility belt with Tums, cough drops, and other crap that he might need that he doesn’t want to get up to get. A small frig resides besides the couch for essential soda and beer.
Clocks and calendars have been removed; who needs time? Sleeping on the couch makes the whole damn thing easier. He doesn’t plan to bathe or shave until this whole damn thing is over, his protest against government overreach.
Still, his mouth is hurting, so he’s thinking, maybe he’ll break down and brush his teeth.
he watched from inside
neighbors greeting visitors
hugs exchanged
kiss ’em on the lips
he seethed inside
wondering who
was cursing who
to death
More cases, more deaths, more jokes about drinking wine.
More demands about re-opening businesses, and then everything will be fine.
More stories about valor and the sacrifices made.
More stories about lying, misinformation, and the debts to be paid.
Some things will not change, don’t seem they ever will,
But every time we go through something like, someone pays the bill.
It’s not usually the rich, nor the pols running the gov,
It’s the workers and the nurses and the people that we love.
Still holding her phone up, Mya stared at her mother. Her mother had such a pretty face. Everyone said so, but whenever it was just her and her mom, her mother delivered every set of thoughts with a long sigh, as if what she has just stated is a great burden. “Beverly’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ll need to send her a birthday card.” Long sigh.
“I have no energy. I’ll make a cup of coffee in a minute, after I do this puzzle.” Long sigh.
“What do we have in the freezer to have for dinner? I suppose I can take out some salmon.” Long sigh.
Listening, watching her mother, Mya wondered where the long sighs came from, and why she did it. Looking into her short tube of memories (she couldn’t help thinking like that, thank you, Uncle Pat), the eleven-year-old decided that she would not be like her mother, sighing as though burdened with everything that she does.
“We can have rice with it. Do we have rice? Let me go look.” Long sigh.
“I’ll look,” Mya said, jumping up. Then she caught herself sighing and wondered, was it already too late?
A new resident has joined us. I found this black widow living outside our bedroom slider.
The slider has a panel with a pet door affixed in place. I met her last night. Letting a cat in, I saw her skinny up a line from the door to the midpoint. Hanging there, she rotated, showing off her abs with its bold scarlet hourglass. When I brought the camera out, her shy side emerged and she shot up to her web in the corner.
I don’t know when she moved in. I chatted with her for a few seconds. She seems moody and distant.
I said, “Hi, I’m Michael.”
She studied me.
I shrugged. “New here?”
Silent staring was her response.
“So what do you do? Web designer?”
“Stay-at-home mom. Gotta go.”
She headed toward a space in the door frame, folding herself in, and pretended to sleep.
I took my photo and went away. I’m sure we’ll meet again. Maybe she’ll be friendlier next time.
Michael Seidel, writer 