Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Hello, it’s December
the month after November
just a few months removed from September
do you see where this is going?
Hello, it’s a new day
are you gonna do a new way
or are you just gonna stay
with the hand that you’ve been playing?
Hello, it’s a new time
but I can’t find another rhyme
to carry on this theme of mine
so I guess that I’ll be endng.
‘Tis the season. Time for a floof carol.
It’s never too early to celebrate Christmas with your loved ones…or your cat(s).
On the first day of Christmas,
My floofball gave to me,
A dead mouse on the settee.
On the second day of Christmas,
My floofnut gave to me
Two hairballs,
And a dead mouse on the settee.
On the third day of Christmas
My gooffloof gave to me,
Three found toys,
Two hairballs,
And a dead mouse on the settee.
On the fourth day of Christmas,
My lovefloof gave to me,
Four scratches on my hand,
Three found toys,
Two hairballs,
And a dead mouse on the settee.
On the fifth day of Christmas,
My preciousfloof gave to me,
Five bitten toes!
Four scratches on my hand,
Three found toys,
Two hairballs,
And a dead mouse on the settee.
On the sixth day of Christmas,
My floofgoof gave to me,
Six licks on my nose,
Five bitten…
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My dream began with me searching for things, ordinary things, like canned food. The setting for it was nothing sinister or confusing. It seemed like I was in a pristine housing suburb.
Others began explaining to me that ordinary things weren’t available. Why not? Because of the invasion.
“The what?”
It had to be explained to me that aliens had invaded. Further, everyone was scavenging for supplies because everything was disappearing. I don’t know where I’d been when all of this had happened, but shrugged that off.
While accepting their explanation, I suggested we should still search for food and supplies that could help us. I was confident that we could find things even though everyone else was saying, no, everything is gone.
I couldn’t believe it. There’d been a war here, an invasion? There was no evidence of it. Although I didn’t see many people — I was told that they were all in hiding — nothing was damaged. It was a lovely day, rich with sunshine and warm, fresh air. With so many abandoned houses, I was sure that we could find food and supplies. I coerced a few people into helping me.
Few supplies were to be found, though. I made people take whatever meager stuff we did find, insisting that we could find uses for them. Everyone was downcast and pessimistic; I was being upbeat.
Screams arose. The aliens were coming. People began running in fear. “I see you,” I heard a loud voice.
“Who was that?”
That was the alien giant.
I wanted to see him. He arose above houses, a huge Humpty-dumpty looking balloon. This was the alien threat? “Yes. Hide,” others answered.
Dubious, I took cover with others, ending up in an office building. Continuing to look for supplies, I discovered other people. They’d set up secret camps in abandoned offices and suites. They didn’t want to let me and my group in. “Go away. There’s no room.”
Then, “Aliens are coming.” As that alarm spread, the people in the camps blamed me. “They followed you. You revealed our position. Now we need to find somewhere new.”
Everyone started running up and down the hallways and steps. I remained confused. Who was the alien coming? Humpty-dumpty? He was too big.
“No, the other aliens.”
What? I had to see them, so I waited, lurking by a corner. They entered the hall, angular, tall, and gray, marching two by two.
Seeing them and now knowing more of the threat, I took off, seeking security. Others were still with me. I continued discovering other enclaves of people hiding. Nobody wanted to help anyone else. It dismayed me.
The gray aliens chased us outside where Humpty-dumpty called, “I see you. I’m coming to get you.” We could see him bobbing above the buildings like a giant balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Everyone scattered. There was just me and a red-headed woman now. As we talked about where we could go — she insisted that we couldn’t stay there, but I thought we could find a safe place and start a refugee camp and band together — aircraft flow over.
The alarm went up. Those were alien aircraft. They began shooting people on the ground with red rays that disintegrated them. Everyone scattered anew.
I ended up in a shopping mall, and then a gym. Everywhere I went, the warning was giving that the aliens had entered. Run! Run! People blamed me for being followed.
The woman and I ended up outside. We were running up a lush valley of tall, deep green grass. A stream ran through the valley. Above was the white cement infrastructure of a highway bridge. Others had camped out under the bridge and had fires going.
I was looking ahead, trying to learn where to go. As that happened, like it was taking place on a television screen, and I could see it all, two men ran up and grabbed the woman behind me. I didn’t know. I kept walking. Hand over her mouth, they dragged her away, then leaped onto horses and rode away. That’s when I turned around and realized that she’d been taken.
I was shocked, and I was alone. Going forward to what I thought was safety, a man came out. Half-naked, white, he had a muscular torso and shoulders. His disheveled hair was long and brown.
I said, “They took my friend.” I wanted to go back for her.
He gestured with his hand for me to follow him. I thought for a moment that he was a centaur. Then I realized that he was. As he walked, I followed. I realized that he was going to explain everything and help me.
The dream ended.
Yeah, not just a quote of the day, but the quote for a lifetime.
I like this quote. This is how I view my story-telling – a dimension of time and movement. It doesn’t make it easy reading (and it can be challenging writing) but such dimensions of time and movement entertain me.
Floofaway (floofinition) – 1. When an animal (especially a pet) is absent from its usual location or isn’t following its regular routine. 2. The noises and motions made to shoo an animal away.
In use: “Not finding Meep in his usual locations, Michael decided that the ginger boy was on a floofaway, and wondered how long it would be — and where he was.”
Día de Floofos (floofinition) – Day of the Animals (November 26 – November 28) Global holiday observed by animals to celebrate and remember other animals, especially those who passed before them. Festivities and rituals vary by region and species, but many animals will choose to go into seclusion for at least a portion of the time to commune with animals who have crossed the rainbow bridge.
In use: “To help his pets celebrate Día de Floofos, he bought special foods and toys, and then left the house to them so that they could celebrate without holding back.”
Floofdicial (floofinition) – Of, by, or appropriate to an animal’s judgement.
In use: “No matter what she tried to do to make Oreo happy, the feline always gave her a floofdicial stare that declared, “Guilty,” forcing her to go back to giving Oreo the treats that she preferred.”
Floofmagic (floofinition) – 1. Quantum acts (such as appearing to be in two different places instantaneously) done by animals that seem to defy ordinary physics and classical science. 2. Animals’ ability to calm and relax others.
In use: “Tupper suffered from nightmares, but once Leggo the dog arrived and applied his floofmagic, everything changed.”
My recent series of dreams have involved structures and family. Two that stand out were about my father and my in-laws.
The dream about my father had bronze red overtones to everything. We were underground, in a cave. Alive (as he is), he was selecting his coffin and burial site. His burial site was a strange building. It had been some sort of business. I was asking him, “This is where you want to be buried?” It seemed so bizarre to me.
Dad barely took notice of my question. He was busy organizing his burial process and closing the deal for the building. Passing out leaflets (which were red), he told me, “You’re one of the pallbearers but you won’t be carrying me.”
I said, “Where is this place?” Someone pointed out a map on wall. I went over to the map and studied it, determining that it was on the California-Nevada border. Knowing where it was, I stepped outside to see it. I discovered I was standing on top of a hill. Below was a huge quarry operation. Shaped in a circle or oval, it was miles wide.
“This is a mine,” I said, looking for Dad. “Why would you want to be buried in a mine?”
The dream ended.
The next night, I dreamed that I was visiting with my sister-in-law and her husband. Other relatives from my wife’s side were present, as was my wife. My mother- and father-in-law have both passed away, and we were at their old home. Only this home was nothing like their home.
Everyone was turning to me and saying, “What should we do with this?” The house was like an faintly familiar maze of rooms and additions. I told everyone, “We need to determine what we have.” Everyone agreed to that, but asked, “How?”
I said, “Well, first, we’ll need to explore.”
Officials came up to us to talk about the house and our plans. I told them of my plan, and they approved. They then said that I should contact a specific person. While he was a teammate, we’d never been close and he was a year behind me. “He’ll certify the findings for you,” the officials said.
I agreed to do that. Then I began leading the family around the dwelling. I said, “I’m going to turn on light switches. Everyone watch to see what lights up. We need to open every door and find every switch.” All agreed.
I did as planned. Whenever I opened a door, I’d find the switch and turn on the lights. Surprising reveals followed. Old rooms and additions that we didn’t know about were revealed. Some were old offices, with filing cabinets and seats. Although old, they showed signs of recent use. Scenes like this, of different rooms that we didn’t know about, happened again and again.
Finished, we went outside. My sister-in-law’s husband came up to me. He said, “Now you know what we faced. Not so easy, is it?” He was laughing, and agreeing, I laughed, too.
Studying the house, I said, “I never knew that it looked like this.” It was a sprawling, eclectic design of multiple levels. Many were new and some were old. As I looked at it, I said, “I know what to do.”
The dream ended.
I’ve dreamed about these in-laws a few times in the past two weeks. In other dreams, I was driving them. I’ve dreamed about my wife’s parents’ home numerous times in the past few years, but the dream and home were always different. The commonality is always that the house surprises me, I’m exploring it, and everyone is looking at me to decide what to do.
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Michael Seidel, writer 