Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
“Jimi Floofdrix” (floofinition) – One of greatest floof guitarists of all time, a songwriter and performer who influenced generations of floof with her playing.
In use: “A favorite Jimi Floofdrix song was “Purple Fur”, a song which was performed at every concert after its commercial release.”
Purple fur all over the house, it even covers the kitchen mouse.
Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why, ‘cuse me while I bite this guy.
A piece was missing. The scowl hardening in his mind crossed boundaries, cementing his face into a likeness of dark irritation. A piece was missing! He’d tried every damn piece that he could find. None fit. None.
Well, that just ruined the jigsaw puzzle. Ruined it. It could never be finished. That meant it was ruined.
He clenched his fists. That’s why he despised buying used puzzles. They set you up for the chance, like this, that you would fail. (Well, it wasn’t him that failed — the piece was missing, so he didn’t fail), but it subverted any pleasure he could achieve, stealing the tangible joy of solving a puzzle. That wasn’t to be this time, which wasn’t fair. In fact, it was cruel.)
Vignettes of how this travesty may have come about began quiet visits. The people who’d donated the puzzle had lost the piece. They found it later, after giving the puzzle away. “Oh, look,” the husband said, picking a piece up off of the floor. “We missed a piece.” He looked around. “One of the cats must have been playing with it.” (Of course a cat had been involved.)
“Oh, no,” his wife said, hand to mouth. Reality sank into place. They’d taken the puzzle to the Goodwill over a month before. Maybe two. Nothing could be done now.
He would hunt them down. All he needed to do is get their DNA — probably some on the puzzle pieces, wasn’t there? — and access to a DNA database that had their DNA (hmm…that might be trickier, but he would find a way), and then —
“Found it.” His wife applied the piece with a flourish, pressing it down until it clicked solidly into place.
“How? Where was it?” Disbelief waxing like a warm sun, he stared at the piece. He’d literally tried every piece in the box, taking them out one by one, trying each piece, and then putting the eliminated pieces into a bowl. There was no way…
Well, there was one way. He eyed her. “Did you hide it?”
She giggled. “I’ll never tell.”
Yeah, we did it. Yeah, we started. Yeah, it’s a difficult one. Yes, we’re starting to hate it.
The floofs didn’t come around to supervise us. Maybe that’s our issue…
“Do I have a flat head?” he asked.
The question was from the proverbial blue left field. It certainly had naught to do with what was going on (which was going to the store) (for groceries) (snacks, if they were honest) (he was driving), or what they’d been talking about (movies) (Parasite and Uncut Gems).
“No,” she said. “You have a perfect head. It’s a perfect shape and size. I’ve always admired the shape of your head.”
He nodded, then said something about worrying about it, which was why he was combing his hair differently (she hadn’t noticed). She half-listened, instead thinking how easy it’d been for her to lie.
But that’s what was learned, during forty years of keeping a marriage alive.
He’s an independent cat
of independent means
brewing independent schemes
chasing independent dreams
He’s an independent cat
runnin’ after this and that
look at that body, not an ounce of fat
not accepting anyone’s flak
He’s an independent cat
checking out the sun
doing anything for fun
always starting, never done
once they offered warmth and vitality
but now they’re empty
and sit alone,
waiting again for another
to cup them
oh, you pain me
and you give me joy
and, oh, you make me so happy that I can’t believe my luck
oh, you make me so angry that I could spit nails
and oh so sad that I cry hot tears in the car
and have secret conversations with you in my head
(that’s what makes them secret)
oh, your beauty and intelligence amazes me
and your kindness and sweetness inspires me
and no one could ever have a better friend
but oh, your obstinance and rigidity frustrates me
and oh, how your complaints wear me out
and your drinking and habits enervate me
which shows the truth:
love can’t be spelled without oh
“The Ink Floofs” (floofinition) – Popular floof vocal group of the mid-twentieth century whose stylings presaged the rhythm and floof (R&F) movement.
In use: “A sentimental favorite by The Ink Floofs, “We Three” tells of the relationship between a pet, their person, and their food. Shared from the pet’s point of view, it describes how lonely they’d be without their human and their food, giving equal love to the person and food.”
Michael Seidel, writer 