This week’s words: Grasp Infuse Shell Form Experience Fly Form Nubilous (adj.)) cloudy or foggy: vague or obscure: indefinite) Sizzle Trapdoor Puzzle Red
Cyril Rum, Angel on Sabbatical, lived in a small house on a non-descript street enjoying the earthly experiences that came his way. Over time and with the help of his neighbour Mildred Thrupp, Cyril had begun to form a lot of opinions about human beings. It was clear to him that they had layers of complexity about them.
Grasping what it was to be human often tied him in knots. Most of the time his thoughts were of a nubilous puzzle with vague being among his most common thought.
Mildred, for example, his best friend and guide to things earthly, kept some chickens in her back yard. Feathered creatures, she referred to as chooks. These chooks laid eggs, and Mildred was forever collecting them and, in the mornings, breaking their shells to cook the soft running substance inside. She used a variety of cooking methods but either way, Cyril always thought they tasted very delicious.
Sometimes Cyril liked to watch them sizzle in the frying pan, and sometimes Mildred infused them with onion and tomato.
Living as he did in suburban Australian, he was always intrigued by Mildred’s attitude to flies. Cyril thought it sad that man had only given them the name fly when he was sure there were far more exotic and exciting names to be called. After all, Cyril knew they did little but flew, buzzed around your head on a hot day, seeking the body secretions on the skin and generally lived a short life if not squashed by Mildred’s red fly swatter before their time was up.
On really hot days, Mildred would open the trapdoor in the floor of her kitchen and go down into a basement she had built where it was cool and away from the heat. Here she could engage in a game of scrabble, thought Cyril was not all that good with words, he was more your deeds type angel, but Mildred enjoyed the banter within the game as she’d tease Cyril about his lack of vocabulary. Cyril would shrug and accept her criticism as a form of humour he was quickly learning about.
Being an angel Cyril didn’t feel the heat nor the cold and so was often intrigued by not only Mildred’s behaviour but by the form of humans in general.