Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
The cats know the word tuna.
So we took to spelling it out around them.
Now the cats know how to spell tuna.
There is no winning. Only cats.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
A train ride will help you get your bearings. You sit on a bench seat and the engine begins to chug.
It's a lovely ride around the grounds, the midway lights dreamy in the fog. You duck as you enter a tunnel.
Glow-paint swirls jog by in the blacklight. The train rocks gently.
You exit the tunnel into bright daylight, the carnival swarming with fun-seekers.
The train continues on, beyond the midway, out to the shore, stopping at a tiny station/dinerette. Perfect waves caress the white beach.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You walk down the platform steps, out to the water's edge. The sea air is cool and seasoned with spray. You shiver, happily, looking down the broad, lonely beach.
Blue-green waves devour bone-white sand. The bright sky watches, indifferent. A seagull dives into the waves and emerges with her catch. She nods at you.
You notice the conch shell by your feet when starts to ring. You pick it up and answer, "Hello?"
"Are you one who seeks or who is sought?" a soft voice whispers like rain.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
So, the Federal Government wants to storm the streets of DC because Big Balls got jumped by a girl so young Jeffrey Epstein would have dated her?
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You could just take a giraffe, but that feels wrong. You go to the Duck Pond game, hoping to pull a winning ducky from the circling water.
"Quack!" The rubber duck you pick takes exception to being picked up by its head. You drop it back in the plastic pond. The ducks all turn and quack at you like a flock of angry squeaky toys.
You apologize and back away. Maybe games aren't for you.
A train ride sits at one end of the midway. At the other, a Tilt-A-Whirl. In the middle, a carousel spins.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
A train ride will help you get your bearings. You sit on a bench seat and the engine begins to chug.
It's a lovely ride around the grounds, the midway lights dreamy in the fog. You duck as you enter a tunnel.
Glow-paint swirls jog by in the blacklight. The train rocks gently.
You exit the tunnel into bright daylight, the carnival swarming with fun-seekers.
The train continues on, beyond the midway, out to the shore, stopping at a tiny station/dinerette. Perfect waves caress the white beach.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Those eyes #CatsOfMastodon
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You explain the giraffe situation. She suggests you try your luck at the midway that you seemed to have overlooked.
You wander through the colorful stalls, haunted by a faint fog that softly blurs the edges and obscures the stars and moons. You are entirely alone.
All of the prize displays feature giraffes. Only giraffes. Every stall.
You didn't wander through an entire midway not to play a game. They're rigged, of course. It's a midway. Still, you consider the options.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You could just take a giraffe, but that feels wrong. You go to the Duck Pond game, hoping to pull a winning ducky from the circling water.
"Quack!" The rubber duck you pick takes exception to being picked up by its head. You drop it back in the plastic pond. The ducks all turn and quack at you like a flock of angry squeaky toys.
You apologize and back away. Maybe games aren't for you.
A train ride sits at one end of the midway. At the other, a Tilt-A-Whirl. In the middle, a carousel spins.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Dashi wishes you a snuggly evening #caturday
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You spot a giraffe on top of the balloon animal pile. Arranging your face in a friendly smile, you stroll over.
The clown opens his mouth. The sound of a hundred freight trains rushes out.
Out of the darkness, an organ grinder approaches. His monkey runs up and hands you a slip of paper. "Follow me." You do, the bright, jangling sounds of the Looney Tunes theme echoing off the buildings.
You stop in front of a fortune teller's tent. She greets you at the entrance. "Fortune telling or seance?"
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You explain the giraffe situation. She suggests you try your luck at the midway that you seemed to have overlooked.
You wander through the colorful stalls, haunted by a faint fog that softly blurs the edges and obscures the stars and moons. You are entirely alone.
All of the prize displays feature giraffes. Only giraffes. Every stall.
You didn't wander through an entire midway not to play a game. They're rigged, of course. It's a midway. Still, you consider the options.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Is the proper way to use chia seeds to buy them and leave them on the pantry shelf for six months? I'm hoping yes.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
Ignoring the odd leaves and bipedal squirrel, you focus on lunch. You paid extra for guacamole, after all. As you hit the motherlode of avocado, your vision blurs. That's happened before, but not without tequila.
You wake up after dark, sucking on the empty foil. The moon is full. The other moon is a thin crescent.
A clown sits in the grass, twisting countless balloon animals. The shriek of rubber rips the air. Past him, a mime descends an endless staircase beneath the only lit streetlamp.
Michele Feltman Strider@michelestrider@mastodon.social
You spot a giraffe on top of the balloon animal pile. Arranging your face in a friendly smile, you stroll over.
The clown opens his mouth. The sound of a hundred freight trains rushes out.
Out of the darkness, an organ grinder approaches. His monkey runs up and hands you a slip of paper. "Follow me." You do, the bright, jangling sounds of the Looney Tunes theme echoing off the buildings.
You stop in front of a fortune teller's tent. She greets you at the entrance. "Fortune telling or seance?"