Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Going across a dark, almost dystopian urban landscape, I came across Dad. He was hustling around, his normal mode, with that odd, splayed-leg walk of his. Seeing me, he said, “Here, come help me.” He was pointing and directing. “We need to paint this place. Get that brush and paint over there.” He pointed to a red brick wall.
At that point, I realized that most of the place was already painted red. “You’re painting everything red.”
“Yes,” he answered, taking up a roller and resuming.
“Why?”
“It needs to be red.”
I saw that besides the buildings being red, so were the pavement, grass, trees, and roads. Even the sky and clouds were red. “How did you do that?”
“Hurry,” he answered, “we need to get everything painted red.”
Although I didn’t understand and disagreed, I began painting. As I did, I found red rubies surrounding me. I picked them up with huge astonishment, admiring the cut gems, and called out to Dad, “Look what I found.”
“I know,” he replied without pausing his work. “Take what you want. They’re yours.”
Dream end.
I was at the bottom of a sloping paved lot. A young friend was walking further above me. Machete in hand and weird grin on his face, I shouted at him to stop. When he didn’t, I felt that I didn’t have a choice but to shoot him. I did, killing him. Oddly, there was no blood and no one saw what I did. I walked away, hugely sad by what had happened. I walked around for a while. It was some sort of quasi-military complex. Others were working but I was in charge, and they left me alone, keeping a respectful distance from me as I walked and brooded.
Watching the skies and listening, I perceived that an attack was eminent. I don’t know who was attacking. They didn’t expect us to be prepared but I had other ideas. Jumping into a sports car, I drove down a hill and slid to a stop. Another person was there. I told him, “Go tell everybody with a car who is a good driver to bring their car own here.”
The first arrived, a young, skinny black guy in a silver Starion. He did a power slide and a little drifting on his arrival. Telling him, “Stay in the car,” I directed him to drive his car into a shed. There, I directed him up a ramp. Machines attached a platform to his car’s underside. It took maybe five seconds. The platform featured engines, weapons, and wings. The kid was agog at the transformation. He drove it out of the shed as others arrived.
I announced, “An attack is coming. They think they’re coming to destroy us, but I’m going to change all your cars into aircraft, and you’re going to meet and stop them.” I then went into an explanation, flying was just like driving. Within minutes, several cars were done and the drivers were learning to control their cars in the air.
End dream
Flooftization (floofinition) — 1. A movement to promote global acceptance that animals have equal rights to humans.
In use: “With flooftization, it’s promoted that rights are not anyone’s to issue, whether it’s a matter with gender, sexual orientation, race, etc., with humans, or animals’ rights to be free of abuse.”
2. Changes made to a localization to be more animal considerate.
In use: “As an example of flooftization, more countries are adopted flyovers that allow animals to safely cross high-speed highways without being killed or injured by motor vehicles.”
3. Alterations to a household to create a more animal-friendly domicile.
In use: “Cat trees and pet beds created safe spaces as part of the flooftization and fostering efforts.”
He enters the shower everyday, hoping and expecting a transformation, and remains amazed that it always works. Is it a matter of setting expectations?
Michael Seidel, writer 