This week’s words: Fell Grin Local Naïve Touch Fata Organa n. a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across the room, idly locked in the middle of some group conversation, their eyes glinting with vulnerability or quiet anticipation or cosmic boredom—as if you could see backstage through a gap in the curtains, watching stagehands holding their ropes at the ready, actors in costume mouthing their lines, fragments of bizarre sets waiting for some other production. Imbibe Opportunity Malleable Keyhole Trammel Hindsight
I fell out of bed and knew immediately it wasn’t going to be a normal day. After all, it was a Tuesday, and it didn’t feel like a Tuesday as Tuesday’s always a feel about them.
I looked around anticipating the day was going to rough no matter how I looked at it. Mara had left her cat behind again, and it sat on the rug grinning at me knowing I didn’t like cats much and more fully aware that the cat didn’t like me.
The trouble I knew had all begun the day before. It had been at the bored meeting when a real fata organa moment had occurred. Everyone was bored out of their minds, and bored minds tend to wander and look for reasons as to why they are bored. It was obvious that Mara sitting across from Olaf had suffered a real moment of emotion, her usual passive self, displayed a flash of emotion not witnessed in her before. She leapt to her feet, threw the glass of water she was holding at Olaf and threatened him with certain death should he continue to stare at her the way he was.
Olaf a local and a touch naïve protested he was doing no such thing to which Mara responded by throwing her note pad at him.
In hindsight that was not such a good move as Olaf accused Mara of spying on him through the bathroom keyhole and from then on it was on for young and old.
Later as we sat around the front bar of the local pub imbibing in several, if not many stiff drinks when Mara took the opportunity to say she would be staying over and that her cat, the grinning Cheshire, would be staying too.
My protests fell on deaf ears as Mara had that ability to sense the malleability of my character and before long I was entertaining not just Mara but her cat as well. There were saucers of milk, a lot of purring and a commitment to quell the trammelist urges I so often had towards her cat.
Now I was awake and staring eye to eye with her ginning cat as it eyed me off with evil intent if not obvious trammel towards me. Yes, I heard myself saying to the grinning cat, milk, a saucer of milk coming up.