Thursday’s Wandering Thought

Midnight was riding up when he slipped on his slippers and fleece. Out the front door he went into a cold, inky night, a cat at his heels.

He closed the front door. The cat galloped ahead. Hard stars ruled the blackness. Stopping a dozen feet from the house, he stared up until Saturn’s yellow spot was located, and then watched until he found the green comet, C/2022 E3. He watched it for a few minutes, imagining the comet’s journey, pleased that he’d seen it.

Until next time, he told it with a small wave and then returned to his house, holding the door open until the cat ran back in, too.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

It was Wednesday. As though scheduled by God, school children began filing into the coffee house at 2:05. Within five minutes, the number of people went from six quiet adults to six quiet adults and fifty noisy children aged ten through fifteen, at a guess. The volume rose. Their voices climbed louder. A fighter jet taking off would have been drowned out.

The cliques formed and routines were honored. Then one teenaged female raced back through the coffee house and out the front door. As she left, she screamed and then did a little dance. A girl outside ran up to her. The two surged into a long hug and began jumping up and down without releasing each other, joy overwhelming their expressions. Other girls in the coffee shop turned, saw the scene and ran out to join them. “Eva, Eva,” one running girl shouted as she raced out, answering one question.

Of course, other questions surfed his mind, like who was Eva and where had she been? She seemed very popular. It was like she was just getting back from prison, a hospital stay, or a very long trip.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

Tuesday found another tech irritation gaining momentum. Apps and search boxes always tried finishing his typing for him. They were often wrong and usually a distraction. Almost as bad was when he shoved his mouse aside to clear a view of what he was typing, only to have the cursor land on something else, amplifying whatever was in that box, whether he was interested or not. The pages were just messy with annoying ‘helpful’ distractions.

Of the Floof Kind

He pads through the house though there’s little light,

Making little sound.

Confirming everything is alright,

Unwilling to let his people down.

Then he returns to the beds,

Checking everyone’s heads,

Reassuring himself that they’re fine.

And has a little to eat,

And then, relaxing, goes to sleep,

Doing the work of a floof kind.

Thursday’s Wandering Thought

He admired his blue pullover. It was a cheap thing, a rag sweater bought for about $15 over twenty years ago. He still liked it although no elastic properties remained in it. Other than that failure, the sweater had no holes, no picks from an animal’s claws — which was truly amazing — and had not frayed anywhere. He’d bought it a store which no longer existed.

The store name, Mervyn’s, came to him after a moment. He remembered their television commercials. It seemed like they’d gone out of business so suddenly and was gone, like a brief rain shower on a hot summer day.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

Rain was coming down. Black asphalt reflected the oncoming traffic’s lights. The speed limit was 35 MPH here but he guessed that the approaching SUV was doing closer to 50. He couldn’t identify what brand the big, silver SUV was, because its grill and front end were gone. As it went by — a Toyota, he noted — he saw that the young female driver was holding a cell phone on top of the steering wheel. Her jaw and mouth were moving like she was shouting at the phone.

He wondered what the story was behind the vehicle’s front-end damage.

Monday’s Wandering Thought

He eavesdropped on two young women. They were seated about five feet from him. He guessed they were twenty years old and probably SOU students.

One woman asked the other, “Are you asexual?”

“Yes,” the other answered. “And bisexual.”

“You can be both?”

“Oh, yeah, you can be both.”

Can you, he wondered to himself. He thought that asexual meant that they either lacked sexual organs, or weren’t interested in sex and didn’t engage in sex.

Continuing his activities, he thought, it’s just another way in which words and their meanings are changing. He still couldn’t reconcile being asexual and bisexual, though.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑