Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofhalla (floofinition) – The great hall where pets are honored and cared for after they’ve crossed the rainbow bridge.
In use: “Ozzy and Flash sat close to one another in Floofhalla (not too close, as Flash had this thing about other animals being in her presence, and she still carried that trait beyond the rainbow bridge), watching over their people and remembering their times with them before, and planning the times they’d have again.”
Flooftricity (floofinition) – 1. Current and discharge animals create when being petted.
In use: “One must be careful when stroking a pet’s soft fur, as it arouses their flooftricity, and you’re likely to experience sparking.”
2. The mutual attraction between two or more animals, or between animals and people.
In use: “When she came home, the flooftricity jumped sky-high as her dogs bounded to her to kiss her face and her cats rubbed against her legs.”
Still raining.
Still walking in it.
Still fun — or pleasant — but a little less so than yesterday or the day before.
Smoke was rising from the hillside, leftover from the controlled burns in the watershed the other day. But I thought, yeah, maybe someone set fire to the rain.
So then I was thinking about Adele’s song, “Set Fire to the Rain” (2011), a powerful, powerful song about love, relationships, and re-birth. I (probably like many) enjoy her refrain:
But there’s a side to you that I never knew, never knew
All the things you’d say, they were never true, never true
And the games you’d play, you would always win, always win
That’s what you find as you go through relationships, the pieces that aren’t revealed, whose revelations (when found) fundamentally shift your thoughts (and feelings) about the other, leaving you to ask yourself (as you search), what do I do?
Sometimes you walk on, sometimes you stay, but the relationship has been changed.
A mellow tune for today, one that I thought of while looking at the mountains across the way. Cold and clear, we were in the shadows on a mountain on the northern side. Over on the southern mountains, sunshine looked warm and inviting. It seemed like two worlds.
I wondered what could bring those worlds together, knowing that those “two worlds” that I saw were one, divided by who was in the shadow. It seemed a proper metaphor for life. People live in the shadow of the information and myths – and sometimes, disinformation and lies – that dominate our world. Amazing how the shadows can affect it.
From that came thoughts of songs about people coming together. There’s a bunch of them that were made in the 1960s, a time when trying to come together seemed important to many artists. Out of the pool, “Get Together” by the Youngbloods (1967) rose to the top and took over the stream.
Tribfloof (floofinition) – Something given or contributed voluntarily to a housepet or animal as due or deserved.
In use: “Every morning, and whenever he came home, his rescue pup came to him for a few minutes of tribfloof, whispered reassurances, petting, and ear and neck scratches to remind the dog that everything was okay, that he had a home and wasn’t abandoned again.”
We saw the light
and thought it was fire,
held in glass
strung by a wire.
We smelled the smoke
and thought it was grass,
we felt lit
and fell on our ass.
We heard a song
and thought it was love,
we tasted tears
and thought it was salt.
We saw the light
but it was too far away.
We said, “Let’s start tomorrow.”
But tomorrow never came.
I lost you,
you found me,
kicking in the door
that I tried to seal.
Dancing on dreams,
living on smoke,
pennies away
from always being broke.
The crystal was fine,
but we drew lines,
toking on what was right,
and what should be denied.
Never agreeing
in sounds too soft to hear,
straining for space
when we tried to get near.
Blinded by lights
that could’ve been love or hate,
we made our way past others,
knowing too much too little
too late.
I watched the first episode of the third season of Goliath last night. A lovely song, “The Rose”, was used during the episode. That triggered a stream of love songs for me…and, well, I ended up with J. Geils Band’s 1980 hit, “Love Stinks”.
It’s just one of those things, you know?
You made a straight shot
with your phone
calling me to see
if I was at home
And a straight shot
with a text
got me out of a tiny little mess
I had with my ex
I took a straight shot
from your eyes
the kind of look like donuts
that goes straight to my thighs
The straight shot
from your lips
made me pucker up fast
and get ready for a kiss
Then a straight shot
from your mind
and you know I thought
I had it made
Everything was fine
But a straight shot
from your gun
and just like that, dude,
t’was no more fun
I was watching a couple. Twenty-ish white people, they seemed to be going through emotional turmoil. Separated by six feet, they entered the noisy coffee shop. She, a blond, was in the lead with her arms crossed over her belly, casting stoic eyes over the coffee shop population and then the menus on the wall. Taller and darker, he came in behind her with awkward shuffling, moved closer to her, leaned in and spoke. Without answering, she turned, stepped around him, and left. He stood for a moment, staring at nothing as though thinking, and then turned and pursued her.
I watched them through the large front window. They’d come in a new-generation red Camaro convertible. I noticed it as it pulled up, as sunlight flashed off its polish. She didn’t walk toward it, but drifted toward the crosswalk to go across the highway with the same stiff body as before. He watched her, then put his head down and stood for several seconds. As she reached halfway across the road, he went after her, but with a slow pace. Then he looked back at their car, paused in the crosswalk, and continued on after the girl.
I lost sight of them. The red Camaro was still there when my wife and I left. Soft Cell’s 1981 medley of “Tainted Love” and “Where Did Our Love Go” streamed into my thoughts.
Michael Seidel, writer 