full
“Fuzzy Memory” by Toledo the Horse
Today’s story is “Fuzzy Memory” by friend-of-the-fireplace Toledo, who is a horse who writes when inspiration strikes hard enough to brave the prospect of plunking out a story on a giant keyboard with a single hoof. You can find more of his writing — as well as his visual art — in his FurAffinity or DeviantArt galleries. On DA he's Toledo-The-Horse, and on FA he's the oh-so-obvious 'out-of-the-boks'.
Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.
Transcript
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,
Speaker:and today’s story is
Speaker:“Fuzzy Memory” by Toledo,
Speaker:who is a horse who writes
Speaker:when inspiration strikes hard enough to brave the prospect of plunking out a story on a giant keyboard with a single hoof.
Speaker:You can find more of his writing --
Speaker:as well as his visual art --
Speaker:in his FurAffinity or DeviantArt galleries. On DA he's Toledo-The-Horse,
Speaker:and on FA he's the oh-so-obvious
Speaker:'out-of-the-boks'." Please enjoy:“Fuzzy
Speaker:Memory” by Toledo
Speaker:The television blinked off at the touch of a button.
Speaker:It was about 8pm.
Speaker:The sun had set, and Joe Davis began to ready himself for sleep.
Speaker:Rising from the living room couch and cinching his bathrobe, he carefully worked his feet into his slippers
Speaker:and shambled over to the kitchen.
Speaker:The last of the night’s dishes languished in the sink, soaking.
Speaker:He would address their appeals in the morning.
Speaker:After all, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go.
Speaker:Having retired several years ago, he was free from the workaday blitzing about.
Speaker:Besides, he no longer trusted his reflexes with the operation of a vehicle.
Speaker:At least, not the new-fangled ones they all had these days.
Speaker:And he could never get used to the self-driving sort.
Speaker:Didn’t trust them.
Speaker:After straining to grasp and pull the knob on the cupboard,
Speaker:he was disappointed to find his vitamins were missing.
Speaker:A moment of consternation passed before he recalled that the week before he had decided
Speaker:it was too much effort to reach for the vitamins in the upper cupboard,
Speaker:so he had moved them
Speaker:to the drawer below.
Speaker:Much easier to open, that.
Speaker:But what day was it?
Speaker:Su, M, Tu, W, Th, F, Sa?
Speaker:A muttered command called up the opty –
Speaker:a concession to his technologically-inclined children –
Speaker:which flashed the date before his eyes
Speaker:and tinkled it into his ear:
Speaker:“Saturday May 29 2056, is there anything else you require?” No, nothing else. The opty flashed off when he adjusted the aural interface. It wouldn’t quite
Speaker:fit his ear.
Speaker:He’d have to get it realigned.
Speaker:He pried open the Sa container, spilling the pills out on the counter.
Speaker:An unusually quick reflexive response prevented them from tumbling to the linoleum.
Speaker:It would have been bad had they fallen.
Speaker:He couldn’t very well have bent over to pick them up.
Speaker:Guess I haven’t lost it,
Speaker:he thought. Fetching a glass of water from the refrigerator door, he downed the pills one by one by one.
Speaker:The bathroom was a short shuffle away.
Speaker:Out came his dentures, wetly plunked into a cup on the vanity.
Speaker:Joe closed the mirror-fronted cabinet
Speaker:after removing his toothpaste,
Speaker:which he smeared on the bristles of his toothbrush,
Speaker:and set to work on his remaining teeth.
Speaker:He contemplated his visage while he made half-hearted semi-circular motions with his brush.
Speaker:Too many wrinkles.
Speaker:His eyes - too tired.
Speaker:Eyes. Eyes! He cursed,
Speaker:something he swore he’d give up.
Speaker:At least around the grandchildren.
Speaker:Spitting out the remainder of the Crest and rinsing his mouth, he opened wide and examined his teeth.
Speaker:Yup, too many points.
Speaker:Trudging out of the bathroom, he lowered himself carefully onto the couch,
Speaker:recalling a time long ago when he had tossed himself carelessly down on a similar sofa.
Speaker:A little book decorated with strange symbols
Speaker:and filled with strange words
Speaker:lay propped open
Speaker:between his then-nimble hands.
Speaker:Speaking strange sounds in the light of a strangely bright moon,
Speaker:he’d first noticed
Speaker:the surge of energy,
Speaker:the itchiness, the pressure, the rush,
Speaker:the excitement of it.
Speaker:He hadn’t thought it would work at all.
Speaker:But it did. And potently.
Speaker:And it worked again.
Speaker:And again. And again.
Speaker:And again. And again and again and again and again and again until long, long, long after he was a moonstruck teenager
Speaker:with oddly occult interests
Speaker:and no real human obligations.
Speaker:Now, though, he just sat and grumbled.
Speaker:No wonder his joints and fingers were more achy today than in the past week.
Speaker:No wonder his dentures hadn’t quite fit.
Speaker:No wonder his senses seemed a bit more sharp.
Speaker:No wonder it felt like he’d sat on his cane.
Speaker:Flipping on the television for some background noise,
Speaker:he kicked off his slippers and activated the opty.
Speaker:He dialed up Sam
Speaker:and mumbled to him, mostly incoherent by now.
Speaker:“On my way already, Dad,”
Speaker:came the reply. --- Sam Davis
Speaker:fumbled with his keyring,
Speaker:searching for the one that would unlock his father’s condo.
Speaker:This was the third time this year he’d found himself en route to his father’s on a full moon night.
Speaker:Dad, bless his heart, was forgetting more and more often,
Speaker:and it was just more prudent to suspect him of forgetfulness
Speaker:than wait until something bad happened.
Speaker:Finding the right key, he opened the door.
Speaker:There, in the cyan halo of the television’s light,
Speaker:sat Joe Davis as few people knew him,
Speaker:though the arms crossed in consternation were familiar enough.
Speaker:The muscles had gone sinewy,
Speaker:the pelt a little slack, and his muzzle was flecked by more than its share of white,
Speaker:but when his ears and face flicked over to greet the newcomer,
Speaker:there were those familiar bright
Speaker:yellow eyes. Sam sighed,
Speaker:letting a sympathetic smile cross his face.
Speaker:To his recollection,
Speaker:his father had never been dangerous around the full moons.
Speaker:Mostly, he’d just locked himself in his room with Mother.
Speaker:The children of age snickered at what they knew what was going on in there.
Speaker:They did, after all, call it their “date night.”
Speaker:It was only after Mother passed nine years ago that Joe revealed to Sam and his siblings what happened when he,
Speaker:as an impetuous teenager high on paranormal lore,
Speaker:had tampered with real magic.
Speaker:Sam strode over to the couch
Speaker:and sat by his father.
Speaker:“Forgot again, eh?”
Speaker:A harrumph was offered in return –
Speaker:not that he could say much in this form.
Speaker:“C’mere, then, Dad.”
Speaker:Sam reached over and hooked his arm around his father’s neck,
Speaker:pulling him down to a half-lying position
Speaker:and scratching his head.
Speaker:“There, there. Don’t worry,
Speaker:it’s okay,” he whispered,
Speaker:humming the melody Joe said had always worked when his wife used it.
Speaker:Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the scowl melted off his father’s canine muzzle
Speaker:and the tension out of his muscles,
Speaker:replaced by a friendly laxness.
Speaker:“Let’s get you to bed.”
Speaker:Standing up from the couch,
Speaker:he helped his father get up on all four of his pawed feet.
Speaker:Sam then grabbed him by the neck scruff
Speaker:and led him over to his bedroom,
Speaker:where Joe gave a slightly belabored leap onto the bed
Speaker:and curled up on his side.
Speaker:Rearranging Joe’s bathrobe over his furry body
Speaker:as a mostly useless blanket,
Speaker:Sam smiled and gave his father a pat on the head.
Speaker:It wasn’t long before Joe was asleep,
Speaker:drooling on the pillow with tongue out and fangs visible.
Speaker:The light went out,
Speaker:the door closed, and the lock clicked.
Speaker:He should really come live with us.
Speaker:The kids are old enough now.
Speaker:I’ll try to convince him again,
Speaker:Sam thought as he finished the dishes in the sink,
Speaker:put the furniture in order,
Speaker:turned off the television,
Speaker:and made sure every door and window of the house was shut fast.
Speaker:Joe hadn’t gone totally feral in years,
Speaker:but Sam was not the type to avoid taking precautions.
Speaker:Calling home to say he’d be spending the night here instead
Speaker:(extra precautions, he thought),
Speaker:he spread out a blanket on the canine-scented couch.
Speaker:After watching a show or two overlaid by some work on his opty,
Speaker:he checked on his father again: still slumbering.
Speaker:He relocked the bedroom door.
Speaker:When he finally went to sleep,
Speaker:the only light in the house behind him
Speaker:was the brilliant bluish glow
Speaker:streaming in from
Speaker:the sky.“Fuzzy Memory”
Speaker:by Toledo the Horse,
Speaker:read for you by Khaki,
Speaker:your faithful fireside companion.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog
