Word: Flummox

flummox

[fluhm-uhks] / ˈflʌm əks /

verb (used with object)

Informal.

1. to bewilder; confound; confuse.

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                Most of the party had gone to sleep, leaving Dan on watch. He spent most of it not paying attention to the light forest. There was no need. There were no monsters around here, and bandits avoided roads that were too well traveled like this one.

                Instead, he spent his time looking at the stars. This world did not have the concept of constellations, so he was making up his own. It was not as easy as he had once thought. It did not help that the skies here were much more populated with stars than back home.

                A slight rustling from behind him drew his attention away from the sky. One of his party members, Anette, crawled out of her tent. She was bleary eyed and dressed in her night clothes. He appreciated the sight, even if there was little difference in the outfit from what she normally wore. The only difference was the robes she currently wore were a bit lighter.

                “Hey, it’s not time to switch shifts.” Dan said. “Also, your turn isn’t next.”

                “I know.” Anette said through a big yawn. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

                “Bad dream or something?”

                She shrugged and made her way to sit next to him. “Something like that. I was being chased by what I think was supposed to be one of those terror birds from your world.”

                “Ah. Yeah, being chased by geese would instill a nightmare in anyone.”

                “What’re you doing?”

                “Nothing much.” He said, looking back at the sky. “Trying to make more constellations.”

                “Those star patterns? Such an idiotic idea. The stars don’t tell stories. They’re beyond such things. And they certainly don’t make images.”

                “You just need to use your imagination.”

                “How about something more interesting? Tell me about your world some more.”

                “What about it?”

                “Well, you’ve never told me about the magic there. What’s it like?”

                Dan let out a small, breathy chuckle. “There was no magic.”

                “No magic? But that’s impossible. Magic is a fundamental force needed for life to exist.”

                “Not where I’m from.” He paused. “We had something we called magic, but it wasn’t.”

                “Can you show me? Maybe your people were doing magic without knowing about it.”

                “I can show you a few tricks. I was never a magician, but I know a few things. I used to do them at my baby cousin’s birthday parties.”

                He picked up a pebble and showed it to her. “Behold the teleporting rock. It’s in my right hand…” He closed his hands around the stone and waved his hands around. He bumped his hands together, slipping the stone into his other hand. “And now it’s in my left.” He showed it to her.

                A quizzical, almost confused look came to Anette’s face. “That can’t be it, right?”

                “It is not. For now, I bring it back to my right.” He bumped his hands again. This time, he slipped the stone into his sleeve. “Or did I?”

                “Just doing the same thing again isn’t that impressive.”

                “Hm, let’s see…” He opened his left hand to show that it was empty. “Where could the stone be…” He opened his right hand.

Anette recoiled in surprise. A confused look crossed her face as she looked at his empty hands.

“Some sort of matter transport? Maybe low grade reality manipulation? I need to study this. Can you resummon the stone? I want to see the mana residue on it. I didn’t even feel any power being used. Whatever it is must be very efficient.”

“You want me to bring it back? Okay, I can do that. I think I’ll send it right…here…”

He reached up behind her ear and made the stone “reappear” by simply slipping it out of his sleeve behind he raised it, hiding it in his palm until the right time. Anette yelped as she saw the stone. Dan laughed at her bewildered look.

“That…that’s impossible. So close, I should have felt something. How…what kind of magic was that? What element? What school?”

“It wasn’t magic.” Dan said. “The rock never disappeared at all. I just hid it while you were focused on something else. That’s all the magic my world is. Skill, misdirection and showmanship.”

She looked even more confused at that. The very idea went against everything she knew about magic.

“That’s…that can’t be. There must be something else.”

“There’s not. They sell cheap toys for kids that teach it. The really good ones can perform on large stages. But that’s all it is. A show. Sorry, Anette, but if my world has real magic, nobody knows about it.”

“Hmm. I’ll be the judge of that. Show me some more of these magician’s arts and I’ll determine if it’s real magic or not.” She seemed determined to get to the bottom of things. Dan’s lips curled up.

“Okay, fine. I don’t have a lot to work with here, and stage magic needs specialized equipment for the really cool stuff. But I’ll show you what I can with what I have.”

He went about performing more of his old, rarely used stage magic tricks for her. It was a bit silly to him, but she seemed to enjoy it. And at least the watch was no boring anymore. 

 

Word" Sockeroo

sockeroo

American  

[sok-uh-roo] / ˌsɒk əˈru /

noun

Slang.

1. a notable success.

   Her performance was a sockeroo.

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                Ted let out a grunt of effort as he managed to get the last garbage bag into the can. It did not quite fit, but it would do until garbage day. He rolled his shoulders and tried to work out the kink in his arm. It did not feel like anything had been pulled, but he would likely be paying for this tomorrow.

                He headed back to the house where Laura was sitting on the couch. She had a vacant, distant look on her face. Ted was immediately on high alert. The fact that the floor had not yet been swept only added to the feeling.

                “Hey, something wrong?” He asked, hoping it was not something he had done.

                “Did we do a good job?” Laura asked.

                “What?”

                “Did we do a good job? Were we good hosts? Was the party good?”

                Ted let out a mental sigh of relief. She was just worried over nothing. He sat down next to her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

                “Yeah. We did good. Everyone had a good time, there was plenty of food, and everyone had a good time. Well, maybe Kristy didn’t, but well, she doesn’t count.”

                Laura let out a quick chuckle. A smile almost formed before she remembered that she was supposed to be second guessing their party throwing abilities.

                “Are you sure?”

                “Yeah, I’m sure. Was anyone complaining? And remember, Kristy doesn’t count.”

                “Well, no. But that doesn’t mean anything. They could’ve just been being polite. Humoring us, you know? And then when they’re going home, they talk about how terrible the party was.”

                “Maybe. But remember, your parents were there too.”

                Her eyes opened wide. “Oh god, what if Mom and Dad hated it? What if I disappointed them? What if—”

                “Laura, honey, stop right there. Don’t think like that. Now, tell me, has your dad ever talked behind someone’s back?”

                “No. He prefers to say things to people’s faces.”

                “Right. And if he doesn’t like a party, what does he do?”

                “He takes Mom and leaves.”

                “And how long did he stay today?”

                “He and Mom stayed for the entire thing.” Ted stayed silent, letting her work it out from there. “And that means he was enjoying himself. And if Dad like the party, then others probably did too.”

                “And there we go. Our party was a resounding success based on the dad metric. And really, what other metric really matters?”

“I guess that’s true.” She paused, looking around the still not-quite cleaned room. “But what about the food? I mean, we had to make so much of it ourselves. What if everyone hated it? Should we have just catered the whole thing?”

                “Again, we look to the dad metric. If he doesn’t like food, what does he do?”

                “He doesn’t eat it.”

                “Right. And what did he do today?”

                “He ate two full plates. And dessert. Mom was definitely not happy with that.”

                That was a particular mark of pride as far as Ted was concerned. After all, he had cooked just as much of the food as Laura had.

                “There you go. So the food clearly passed the dad metric as well. All in all, a big success.”

                Now a small smile did form on Laura’s face. Her entire body began to relax and the light began returning to her eyes.

                “I guess so. I guess we did host a good party, didn’t we?”

                “That’s right, we did. A damn good one. Unfortunately, that means we also have to clean up after that party.”

                Laura let out a shocked little squeak and sat bolt upright for a moment before standing quickly. “Oh geeze, sorry. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that…sorry.”

                “It’s okay. I took care of a lot of it already. Now, let’s do the rest together. And remember, we did good, so no trying to find flaws or faults.”

                “I’ll try. No guarantees, but I’ll try.” She said as she went to get the broom.

                Ted nodded. That was as good as he was going to get.

Word: First-Foot

first-foot

[furst-foot] / ˈfɜrstˈfʊt /

noun

1. the first person to cross the threshold of a house on New Year's Day.

2. the first person met after starting out on the day of an important occasion.

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                Becky stood, shivering in the cold. She should be in the car or the house, but Will insisted they wait. She would be mad, but he was right there with her. That was something, at least.

                “So, why can’t we go inside?” She asked. Again. She had asked that same question at least three times and had not received a satisfying answer.

                “Because some things are just better when done at the right time.” He replied.

                He was looking at his phone, checking the time. Becky could tell he was probably waiting for midnight to roll around. New Years and all that. But this area did not have fireworks. Or any other method of celebration. At least, not publicly.

                “Seriously, Will. We bought this house to stay inside. You know, inside, where it’s warm. Not freezing our butts off in the middle of the night.”

                Sure, the place was a mess. Or at least, she assumed it was. She had not been in there since the movers arrived. Since they had picked up the keys from the realtor’s office. She knew it would be nothing but boxes and maybe a mattress for tonight. But that was no reason to not go in.

                “We’ll go inside at the appropriate time.”

                Becky huffed. “And when is the appropriate time?”

                Will checked his phone again. The glow lit up an almost manic grin. “About ten more minutes.”

                She blinked a few times in surprise. She had not been expecting a concrete answer. She quickly checked the time. It showed 11:50 pm. She groaned.

                “Really? Are we seriously doing this?”

                “It’s important, Becky! We have a once in a lifetime opportunity here. It’d be dumb to waste it.”

                “Why didn’t you just tell me this is what you wanted to do?”

                “Because if I had, you would’ve said no.”

                She opened her mouth to say something, but he was right. She would have said no to this whole thing. If he had told her, they would be inside right now, probably watching the ball drop on one of their phones.

                “Okay, fine. But which of us actually goes through at midnight?”

                “Both of us. The door is just big enough if we squeeze. I checked.”

                “You’re kidding, right?”

                “It’ll be a tight fit, and we’ll have to go back-to-back, but we can do it.”

                Becky looked at the door. It seemed fairly normal to her. But then again, neither of them was particularly big. It might be possible if they did it right. Maybe. The benefits of being on the shorter and slimmer side of things, she supposed.

                “Oh, it’s almost time, let’s get ready!” Will said, clearly getting excited. “Should we record this? I feel like we should record this. You know what? I’m doing it.”

                He strode up to the door without opening it. He messed around with his camera, setting it up for a video. Becky sighed and joined him at the threshold of their new home. Will put his hand on the knob, ready to turn it the moment the clock changed dates.

                “Here we go.” He said, “New year, new home, new life. Come on, let’s get ready.”

                He turned towards her, moving as close to the edge of the door as he could while still being able to enter. Becky felt her lips twitch upwards at his enthusiasm. She knew it was stupid, but it was infectious. She pressed herself as close as she could, showing that he had been correct. They could just barely fit.

                “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.” He counted. At five, he turned the knob and opened the door. “Four. Three. Two. One.”

                Both of them stepped into the newly bought home at the same time, right as the clock hit midnight.

                “Happy New Year!”

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Happy New Year indeed.