Sunday’s Wandering Thought
He watched his cats regard one another. Each feline seemed wary and doubtful of the other although they’d lived together for over six years. He believed that both cats thought of himself as the better floof and thought the other was a little crazy. Of course, being the better floof to them also meant that they were due more attention and treats than that other, inferior floofer.
Saturday’s Wandering Thought
He still follows the three S school of discipline for washing pots and pans: Soap ’em, Soak ’em, Scrub ’em.
Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts
Alexa said, “Your cat, Papi, is at the front door asking to enter the house.” He answered, “Open the door and let Papi in, please.”
“Letting Papi in,” Alexa replied.
It’s really the best thing that Alexa does for him.
And then he woke up.
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
My wife exercises three mornings a week. Been doing this since we moved to Ashlandia in 2005. Friendships have developed through the years. A coffee clatch after class — which I call the zoo — was added a decade ago.
Today, she came in and handed me half a package of Trader Joe’s dark chocolate espresso beans.
“Where’d you get these?” I asked.
“Deborah. She said she can’t stop eating them so she’s giving them away. Everyone took what they wanted and told me to take those home to you.”
“That’s kind of her.” I sampled three.
OMG good. I understand Deborah’s decision. The damn things are addictive.
Tuesday’s Wandering Thought
He saw a window sticker on a car’s back window. It originally said Southern Oregon University. Some letters were lost, rendering it as uthern Oregon University. Now he couldn’t stop wondering about uthern Oregon, wondering, where was it? What was it like?
Someday, he vowed, he would find uthern Oregon and the university. The journey might require some drugs.
Monday’s Wandering Thought
He finished his writing session and stood. Glancing to the neighbor on his left, he saw that the man was writing music. Peering at the sheet more closely, he wondered how it sounded.
If he could only read music…
Today’s Wandering Thoughts
She looked at the pen clipped to his shirt. He always wore one there, below his first and second button, a good-luck talisman.
“I notice that you almost always have a pen there,” she said. “Why do you do that?”
He grinned. “Well, it’s not a pen.”
“It’s not? It looks like one.”
“It’s a sophisticated recording device. Links to my phone. I’m always recording everything happening to me, around me, you know, just in case.” He shrugged, noting her incredulous expression. “Just part of the times, you know?”
He picked up his beer and sipped it, debating, should he tell her he was joking?
Michael Seidel, writer 