

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He recalled the mother of his youth. She was always reading. Michner, Robbins, Jong, paperbacks purchased at drugstores. Movies fascinated her. She always recommended actors, directors, movies.
Now, she doesn’t have time to read. Hasn’t in years. She’d moved from fiction to true crime to nothing. She doesn’t like movies, she says. She wants drama and none of them provide it. Time is spent watching MSNBC, or shows like Doctor Pimple Popper, My Feet Are Killing Me, and Dateline.
It’s not surprising. Everyone changes. He thinks about the episodes, powers, and energies that shaped and reshaped her, rising to a comparison with the planet, and how unseen events work together to reshape the world.
It was hot, dry, and clear. I was on a broad and empty plain. Two riders on horseback galloped toward me. I watched, trying to understand, who are they? Nothing auspicious about them, they resembled cowboys out of a revisionist western. They were approaching at slightly different vectors, dust pluming out behind them. I realized with some slowness, hey, they have ropes. Hey, they’re going to rope me.
Out in the open, nowhere to go, I thought that I’d run toward them, separating the space. Yeah, that didn’t work. They lassoed me. I awoke with a start, heavily sweating, struggling against the ropes. Took several seconds to understand that I’d been dreaming — or maybe experiencing another reality.
Floofex (floofinition) – Existence or conscious reality created or maintained by animals. Although skilled at doing such, human presence tends to distill or distort animals’ realities, sometimes with adverse consequences resulting.
In use: “Having realized human impact on their Floofex, and appreciating the ways in which cats, dogs, and other creatures could co-habit with human in roles as pets, the Council ordered a quantum increase to the number of animals going to Earth in that role in an effort to reverse some current, terrible trends and establish a happier, more pleasant Floofex.”
He encountered a friend and told him, “I like your shirt. That’s very nice.”
“Thank you,” the friend replied.
“Would you sell it to me?”
“What?”
Brainstorm! He’d start a reality game show — “The Shirt Off Your Back” — where minor celebrities would go around offering people money, gifts, or favors for the clothes they were wearing. It’d be sort of a poor person’s Indecent Proposal.
It was dumb enough that it might just work.
He sits in a chair and closes his eyes
With the space of a breath
He becomes another guy
Living in another place and time
Where he sits in a chair and closes his eyes
Ever becoming another guy
Living in another space and time
Nothing is done
Everything’s changed
And all is the same
Never rearranged
Except he sits in his chair
And closes his eyes
And becomes another guy
In another space and time