Comments on: Friday Fluff: A crazy box of crabs

By: Shiyiya

Shiyiya — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 07:40:38 +0000

My soul is the light cast by an abstract stained-glass window. My mother is a beat-up old plastic lawn flamingo in a circle of grass that has been hand-trimmed with scissors to exactly half an inch long. My dad is a set of high-quality metal calipers with all of the numbers printed backwards. My friend Caitlin is a fountain of golden sparkles and shirley temples (the drink, not the child actress). My cats are…. themselves. My fiance is a high-tech robotic cat, that’s standoffish and sometimes fierce to most people, but sweet and clingy and affectionate to who it’s adopted as its owner. My cousin Kaylene is a well-loved favourite childrens’ book. Her husband is a wind-up toy dinosaur and her son is a brightly painted top.

This is interesting!

By: Arwyn

Arwyn — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 03:15:49 +0000

My mother’s soul is a novelty blue eyeball-in-a-ball, that wobbles around but always settles to looking up.

My partner’s is the computer mouse that fits your hand so perfectly you’d never get rid of it, even if the wires are starting to fray.

Dubya’s is an old well-worn baseball cap from some band you vaguely remember from the 80s that you’re pretty sure no one liked even when they were really popular.

I think mine may be my grandparent’s cuckoo clock that never keeps the right time, and sometimes cuckoos too much and sometimes too little, but somehow is still worth keeping around.

By: Mel in NZ

Mel in NZ — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 00:49:55 +0000

My soul is a Chocolait Hub 70% dark hot chocolate with cinnamon

My husband’s soul is blues riff on a 1965 Fender Stratocaster

My daughter’s soul is something heard only by her inside a headphone

My son’s soul is fighting space marine hugging a chocolate labrador

By: Em

Em — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:01:35 +0000

My soul is a giant, slightly manky grey cat asleep on a pile of second-hand paperbacks.

My mother’s soul is a metronome with a panic disorder.

My father’s soul is a decommissioned military jet.

My brother’s soul is a pizza with a mousetrap inside.

By: Tarrin

Tarrin — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 19:53:48 +0000

My soul is a little farm-goat that likes to think it’s a mountain goat, with those dragon-slit eyes, big bat wings, and a tangle of very soft fluffy hair over its breastbone. It likes to fly to the top of tall buildings and sit there.

By: wiscck

wiscck — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 18:05:05 +0000

My soul is a slightly dusty room crammed to the gills with books, none of them in any kind of order – just piled onto tables, and stacked in the corners, and spilling off of shelves and out of boxes. And of course, they’re all books that you want to read, and there’s a nice, fat armchair to curl up in. And a bottomless coffee pot.

By: Nancy

Nancy — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 16:05:38 +0000

My soul is holding a beautiful piece of handmade pottery. Thinking of all the work that went into making it. How wonderful it feels to the touch. Solid, cool made with such care. Like this one that is the color of the sky.
http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=26623338

By: BeccaBoo

BeccaBoo — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 01:57:08 +0000

I think my soul would be a patchwork quilt. Or this one necklace I have that’s a piece of pink quartz cut in the shape of a trapezoid and suspended on an oblong-linked chain from one of its corners. The quilt because I’m so…quirky and just everywhere and each bit of me comes from somewhere else and tells a story. The necklace because it’s odd, and somewhat original, but delightfully charming.

My mother’s soul would have to be a crystal vase with dried flowers. She can be so strong and so cold, but inside she’s quite fragile.

My stepfather would be an accordion. As soon as I thought of him, I thought of his accordion Excalibur.

My cat–and yes, I do believe cat’s have souls, they are far too intelligent not to possess one–is a newspaper. An everyday item that is just always there when you need it for something else entirely.

All of my friends I can think of as fruit. My friend Sam would be a tart strawberry, and Amanda would be a really juicy Pink Lady apple. PJ would be a bruised banana that’s still really sweet with its brown spots, and Becca and her boyfriend Brian would be two cherries.

By: KellyK

KellyK — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 19:01:56 +0000

My soul is a purple spiral-bound notebook full of poems and stories and D&D character notes, with a picture of a unicorn scotch-taped to the cover.

My husband’s soul might be a blue bowl of coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup, or it might be a computer, McGyvered together with miscellaneous parts, including an egg-beater and blue duct tape, but that runs World of Warcraft flawlessly.

I have one friend whose soul is a red dragon that reads a lot of comics. Another is a small black kitten.

By: Pagooey

Pagooey — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 21:33:53 +0000

I’m kind of shocked that something came to me so immediately, and that it made a kind of sense even so: my soul is a tin of Hershey’s Cocoa.

Kind of blocky, but with rounded edges. Brown, but with interesting silvery details. Commonplace, but at home in the kitchen. Filled with chocolate-smelling goodness that is bitter at first blush but can be endlessly combined to delicious effect.

Damn, who knew?