The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
Edited by: Lavanya Goswami
The subject Fluff is currently under the observation of the narrator, who boasts of a peculiar scientific method. It is a good fit for the curious activities of the object under observation.
The aim of the observation is to get an estimation of the brain capacity of Fluff. Fluff themself believes that there has been a significant decline in the number of brain cells their brain possesses. Neurons may have been lost due to stress, sarcasm or too much coffee. Fluff gives increasingly vivid descriptions of the causes behind such a loss. The narrator cannot understand whether Fluff is devastated or elated over it.
Fluff is rolled up in a thick blanket because they are cold and sleepy. Their phone’s alarm rings at precisely 6 am.
Fluff struggles and gets further entangled in the fabric, while in the process of getting up from the bed. The noise of the alarm reaches a crescendo.
Fluff flails about and rolls off the bed. They land with a satisfying thump.
The narrator assures the reader that Fluff neither has a concussion nor has fractured their bones.
Fluff is staring at themself in the mirror and the bathroom floor beneath their feet is very cold. It is also dry — Fluff will not slip and fall.
The plastic of their toothbrush is whiter than their teeth. Fluff squeezes out a thick cylinder of fluorescent blue gel, onto the bristles.
They start brushing their teeth after wetting the toothbrush head. Foam builds around their lips at an alarming rate. It tastes soapy and bitter, instead of the minty sweetness they expected.
They look at the toothpaste tube they used- it is shaving cream.
The narrator believes that Fluff will land a sponsorship from Gillette.
It is mid-morning and Fluff can feel themselves lagging behind. They have doodled an entire garden on their notebook while waiting for the Zoom session to be over.
They have not taken notes. They need coffee.
Fluff heads off to the kitchen and picks up a white ceramic mug. They fill it with water, careful to not spill a single drop.
They use the microwave oven to heat the water. They set a timer for a minute and the door closes with a click. The glass plate starts rotating.
They take out the coffee and sugar. They check twice, for they had put salt in their coffee, the day before.
The microwave oven beeps and they hop over to open it. It is empty and Fluff is puzzled.
The narrator rests their head on the kitchen counter- Fluff forgot to put the mug inside the machine.
Fluff likes the wind brushing their skin — it gives them goosebumps. The cookie they take a bite out of, melts in their mouth. It has a dark and warm taste.
Their dog leans against them, heavy and furry. They are both looking out at the greenery before them.
A whine stops them from taking another bite. Fluff’s dog is giving them ‘melts-you-in-a-puddle’ eyes. They sigh and hand over the cookie. Their dog proceeds to happily munch on the goodie and they feel glad.
The wind ruffles their hair and Fluff freezes — the cookie was chocolate chip.
They tussle with their dog, their fingers slipping against sharp teeth and saliva.
The narrator believes that Fluff is not yet responsible enough for rearing a pet.
Fluff’s eyes are watering behind their glasses as they stare at the error pop-up on the computer screen. The e-form keeps on rejecting the file.
This is their fifteenth attempt and the only reason that they are not outright sobbing is because of the fact that salty tears form weird bumps on the surface of the laptop keyboard.
Their cursor presses on the red cross and they take a deep breath.
They squint at the tiny italicised words beneath the file attachment option. The file needs to be between 500 kB and 1 MB, and has to be jpeg format.
They look at their file in the minimised library window — it has a very obvious red pdf square next to the file name.
Fluff and the narrator both die a little at that moment.
The day is over and Fluff is ready for bed.
They have finally gotten the blanket to cover them completely. Their feet are not peeking out and a perfect soft-cloth cocoon has been achieved.
The angle between their neck and pillow is perfect. They stare at the rotating fan on their ceiling.
They have forgotten to switch off the bathroom light.
The narrator is concerned that the vein throbbing on Fluff’s forehead might burst.
Fluff thanks the narrator for carrying out the task of observation. The narrator smiles and shakes their hand.
The narrator does not tell them that they suspect the truth of the species assigned to Fluff.