Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Word: Ossify





ossify

[os-uh-fahy]
verb (used with object), ossified, ossifying.
1. to convert into or cause to harden like bone.
verb (used without object), ossified, ossifying.
2. to become bone or harden like bone.
3. to become rigid or inflexible in habits, attitudes, opinions, etc.:
a young man who began to ossify right after college.

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               Ken stood there and blinked.  He wasn’t sure what else to do.  There, sitting on his couch, was a skeleton.  It wasn’t lying there, motionless, as one would expect a skeleton to do.  Rather, it was sitting up and reading a book.  It even turned the page every now and then.  The skeleton turned to look at him.  Ken swore that if it had any skin on its hollow face, it would look quite pleasant.  He wasn’t quite sure how bare bones were able to pull such a look off, but it did.
                “Oh, hello.  You’re home early.”  It said.  Ken blinked again.  He felt like a response was warranted, but he couldn’t quite think of what it was.
                “Uh, sorry?”  Was what he went with.
                “Oh, no problem, no problem at all.  In fact, it’s better this way.  I had just sat down, expecting to wait awhile, and now that’s not needed.”
                “Oh.  That’s nice?” 
                “Yes, yes.  Now then, why don’t you have a seat and we can talk about why I’m here.”  The skeleton said, gesturing to one of the nearby chairs.  The sound of its bones sliding against each other sent shivers down Ken’s back, even though it was a quite one.
                “Uh, right, sure.”  Ken still had no idea what was happening or what to do, so he opted to take a seat.  He did choose a different one that the skeleton had indicated though.
                “Now then, first of all, my name is Murray.  Pleased to meet you, Kenneth.”
                Murray was not the name Ken expected it to have.  He didn’t know what name he thought an animated skeleton should have, but that was not it.  It took him a moment to take note that it knew his name as well, but somehow that seemed somewhat minor compared it its existence.   
                “I’m sure you have a number of questions for me.”  Murray said, setting the book on the coffee table in front of the couch.  “Let’s begin with the obvious one, shall we?  Yes, I really am a skeleton, and yes, I am moving on my own.  You can tell that there aren’t any strings or wires or any such devices attached to me, yes?”
                “Uh huh.”  Ken replied.  It was true Murray didn’t appear to be a puppet, but there were other explanations.  Robotics and remote control came to mind.  He quickly dismissed them though, since neither technology was at a level to properly animate a form as complex as the human skeleton.
                “Wonderful.  Now, on to the next obvious question.”
                “How are you moving?”  Ken asked before Murray could ask for him.
                “Well, that’s a bit complicated, but let’s call it magic and leave it at that.”  Ken swore Murray was trying to do something with his eyes.  It was either winking or opening them wider for a moment.  Since all Murray had was empty eye sockets, it was hard to tell exactly what though.  “Let’s move on to why I’m here, yes?  I’m employed—“
                “Wait, you have a job?” Ken asked.  For some reason that seemed an important question to ask.
                “Oh yes.  I’m sorry to say even the afterlife needs a workforce.  I’d elaborate, but then I’d have to kill you.  Nothing personal, but you have to be dead before you can find out about the afterlife.”  All of Ken’s curiosity about the subject disappeared.  “Now, moving on, I’m employed as a closet skeleton.”
                “Which is?”
                “You’ve heard the term skeleton in the closet, correct?  It’s a bit more literal than most people realize.  Everybody has their secrets, and we closet skeletons listen to and record all of them.  Oh, incidentally, I’m not your closet skeleton.  I work with one of your friends.  Can’t say who though.  It’s similar to doctor-patient confidentiality, you see.  Technically, I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now, but I felt it important enough to…bend the rules, just this once.”
                “So, uh, who’s my skeleton?” Another thing that Ken wasn’t sure why it seemed important.  But for some reason, he did.
                “That would be Carl.  Nice fellow.  Doesn’t talk much, but nice enough once he opens up.  Oh, but he won’t talk to you at all.  You’re not even supposed to know he exists, so don’t try chatting with him.  Now then, unless you have any other questions, why don’t we move on to why I’m here?”
                “Uh, okay, sure.”
                “Excellent.  Now, your friend is very concerned with you, you know.  He really is.  He feels you’re driving yourself into a very large amount of bad habits.  He doesn’t feel right talking to you directly about them, but he is.  He just worries that if you keep going as you are now you’ll end up alone and miserable, simply because you’ve become so used to your habits, practices, and attitude won’t let you open up to anyone else.  It’s not healthy, it really isn’t.”
                “So…so what should I do?”
                “Change.  Go out and do things.  Go meet people.  Don’t stay in here all day.  Oh, I don’t expect it’ll come easy.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I don’t even expect you to change overnight.  That just doesn’t happen, you know.  Take it slowly and carefully at first.  You don’t need to be a social butterfly, just make an attempt is all.  It’ll be a big relief for my client.”
                “Oh.  Well, I, um, I guess I can give it a try?”  Ken said hesitantly.  Murray’s words sounded nice, but it was harder than the skeleton thought for him.  To go outside for anything other than work was, for Ken, nearly impossible. It was a wonder he had a job outside his apartment at all. 
                “Yes, wonderful.  I’m sure once you just go and get it over with you’ll feel much better.”  Murray said.  The skeleton stood up.  “Now then, I’ve said what I came here to say, so I really should be off.”  Ken followed suit and rose from his chair.  It seemed like the polite thing to do.  “Good day, Kenneth, and remember, no matter what you might think, there are people out there who are concerned about you.  Try reaching out to them.  It might be easier than talking to this pile of bones.”
                Murray turned and walked towards a door that was definitely not the front door. Ken wondered if hands without skin could handle the smooth doorknob.  There didn’t seem to be any trouble on that front.  Then Ken remembered what that was the door to.
                “Wait, that’s the…”  The door shut with a firm click, Murray on the other side of it.  “closet.”
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 So, do you think closet skeletons and closet monsters would get along?  Would they be business rivals?  I mean, there usually isn't much space in the average closet for both a skeleton and a monster, right?  Maybe they take turns?

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