Attack Blankets!

So hubby runs hot and I run cold, not unlike couples across the world, I suspect. This means we have three blankets on the bed—two on him, three on me, though that's not my point. My POINT is that the reject third blanket is one of those pounded felt numbers that originally had the satiny edging, but hasn't for many years now. The FELT is coming apart a strip at a time, such that it seems there is ALWAYS an edge of the blanket with a long strip cut, except for the ends... a TRAP, if you will, when you (meaning I) wake up in the middle of the night and need to use the loo. Step out of bed, foot goes through the loop, and then your OTHER leg gets wrapped in this blanket of doom.


You couldn't put that in fiction, could you? It takes too long to explain what the heck I'm talking about, and by the time you get it, while you still can see me toppling over, you've forgotten why I had to get up in the first place. I think maybe this is a tricky area—creating life circumstances that happen to us all, not because we are horribly CLUMSY (because in reality, I'm not really less coordinated than the average bear, though I do fall down more because I happen to WALK more (about 30 miles a week) in WORSE conditions (meaning all of them—even ice)... erm... while doing somewhat distracting things, (like reading or editing...) But that isn't CLUMSY so much as busy with a touch of reckless, yeah?


NORMAL Characters

Do you see normal characters have moments like that very often? I don't think I do. It seems like either there is a clumsy characteristic, or they get things right more often than not. That's a little annoying, actually, now that I think of it, but that is probably just me. I have a strong bias against anyone for whom things come too easily (in fiction or real life, honestly, though in real life, I forgive them mostly if they are nice... though I maintain my right to political bias).

Blankets as Characters

You know... I can only think of three examples and they are complete triangular opposite spectra of the matter.

First, we have Linus. His blankie is his marker of security and in many ways, his best friend. He doesn't do anything without the blanket. If Linus was the MC in Peanuts, the blanket would be the sidekick.


Then we have the HORRIBLE and very REAL blanket incident in which the United States government hired 'blanket assassins' to deliver small pox to native Americans—probably the moment I find most shameful in our history—not that we have a shortage of shameful moments...

And FINALLY, my favorite Blanket as Character... and one I feel positive was inspired by just such an event as I've been experiencing lately (because it ISN'T the first time I've channeled JK Rowling)--the Lethifold! The Lethifold is one of the few five-star dangerous creatures listed in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Five stars means UNTRAINABLE! Eeek! Anyway, a Lethifold is described thus in the Harry Potter Lexicon (which looks like it's from FbaWtFT (my own copy is buried somewhere in other books):

This dangerous beast resembles a half-inch thick black cloak which moves along the ground at night, hunting its prey. It attacks sleeping humans, smothers them, then digests them, all in their bed, leaving no trace at all. The only known defense against a lethifold is a Patronus Charm. Thankfully, this frightening creature is rare, only found in the tropics (FB).

Seems to me the Lethifold's only saving grace is that it LIVES where people don't often use blankets...

What about you? Any interesting, fun, horrible or frightening blankets in your stories? *shifty*



And What About The BURROW!?

No blankets there, to speak of... but we ARE doing our December feature (did I mention this already?) A new drabble is being revealed each day in December (including several from our fantastic friends). So if you'd like a different drabble every day in December, go check it out! 
http://www.the-burrow.org/
For a teaser, here was my first entry for the month (fictional—because I know you'll want to know)

Vin Chaud (Mulled wine)

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

I'm not sure I thought that, even as I said it, but how long since I'd been to one of these extended family gatherings? Since I saw you? Twenty-nine years. A husband (mine), a wife (yours) and five children ago. Curiosity stronger than fun-seeking. I really should have known.

For now I sit on a bar stool, pondering mulled wine and the man down the bar I think I went to high school with—the one who would be really stupid to sleep with. But nothing makes me quite so reckless as realities that never were.



A drabble is a story told in exactly a hundred words.