Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Dreamed last night the people were calling me Einstein. This was done to mock me. That pissed me off.
I’d arrived at a large building. Laid out with several floors and many rooms, clutter made moving difficult, and people milling about worsened it.
Walking about, the mess irritated me. Without talking to anyone, I began deciding where things should go and moved stuff around. Noticing, others began picking things up and asking me where to put it.
Soon, everyone was helping. I directed that others create lists of where things went, and put those on the walls. Then I had similar lists made up that told each room’s contents.
Momentum created, things were running themselves when two men approached. The taller of the two said to the other, “This is the Einstein that changed everything, so ask him if you have any questions.”
His snide tone stirred WTF in me. “I’m not Einstein, I’m not smart, I just organized things.”
But the guy kept talking, calling me Einstein.
Miffed, I ignored him and continued with what I was doing. My wife and her niece arrived. I decided to declare some space as ours, and eventually came up with a large suite of empty rooms. After hustling people out and closing the doors, the three of us walked around. As I did, I warmed to the realization that I had ended up with a huge and desirable space with lots of windows and incredible views. I pointed that out to the others.
Agreeing, they shared my excitement, which is where the dream ended.
Floofmentum (floofinition) – The impetus gained by an animal, especially a housepet, particularly when addressing how the animal joined a household or won someone over.
In use: “The giant parrot had to have once belonged to someone, but it’d landed in the yard and then invited itself into the house, and then, through floofmentum, came to be Lily’s best friend and constant companion.”
It may be the time,
the energy,
or the intentions,
or the hope.
It might just be the words or the dreams.
But you notice it slipping away,
through the cracks in the space of your life.
It’s the little things, at first.
Then you notice that much of it that you took for granted as yours has gone.
You never noticed the cracks.
You saw that it was two thousand.
Then it was twenty ten, twenty eleven.
Now it’s twenty seventeen.
It was January. Now it’s April.
Today, you order yourself, searching for the words and motivations in the cracks.
Today!
Before more is lost to the cracks,
today, you will write with abandonment.
Today, you will write like crazy.
At least one more time.
Michael Seidel, writer 