Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Some journeys take you exactly where you know you’re going. You know exactly what to expect when you arrive. Other journeys are just a stopover in the larger picture.
But some journeys are mystical. You don’t know if it’s the final stop or the start of a full new journey. All you can do is wonder.
His shoes were lined up in the closet. One pair had the sides reversed. He had to fix them before going on. The right shoe on the left side just looked too wrong.
He’d seen his shadow this afternoon. That meant another cup of coffee, and maybe two cookies after he ate his lunch.
Rules are rules.
He removed his toothbrush. Then he remembered that he wanted to wash his hands before he brushed his teeth. Hands washed, he reached for his toothbrush in its holder.
Gone.
WTH?
He looked around. There was the toothbrush, where’d he set it two minutes before.
So it was going to be that kind of day.
Websites seemed to be growing worse. Almost since the inception of the web, there was clickbait, slugs, ledes, and headlines to invite surfers to click and browse. Too many of these were outright misleading, trying to sensationalize political divisions and celebrity behavior.
Grammar declines. Punctuation mistakes, yes, and typos, which can happen, but some sentences are read several times before the fact is accepted that the sentence is I&I – incomplete and incoherent.
Now, bad links are blooming. Click on a link and it takes you to the wrong place. Is hijacking back? It seems like just weak execution. Whatever it is, it’s another modern, first-world annoyance.
Don’t get him started on the pathetic search results which are often returned.
I called to make an appointment. Speaking with the agent, I heard her typing fast. Her keyboard’s clickety-clack sounded like a train going by, reminding me of all those moments of sitting in a car behind the red and white boom barrier, bells ringing, red lights flashing, waiting for a train to pass.
He liked creating games out of the things he did. Arriving at the coffee shop, he noted the parked cars. The game was, ‘Whose Car is This?’ He liked matching cars with the individuals inside.
Another regular game was Sock Toss when he put clothes away after the laundry was done. He had a .600 average.
The oddest game was probably sneak up on the cats. Tucker wasn’t included much any longer. He was old and slept deeply. Papi was his usual target, but the little ginger usually moved ears and lifted his head to smile at him before he was within three feet. Papi knew the game, and he always won.
“Listen,” he said. “I need to eat now. See, I need to take of myself so I can take care of you. Who will take care of you if I’m not here?”
The cat meowed back.
He wasn’t sure if his message was received.
My cat, Tucker, has developed a method of meowing without opening his mouth. Lately, the sound coming out sometimes sounds like he’s saying my name, “Michael. Michael.” Today, after I put food into his bowl, it sounded like he said, “Thank you.”
I’m awaiting further developments.
Michael Seidel, writer 