“It’s just a bit… floofy”
“Floofy…?”
“Puffy, light, airy, windswept, whatever! A bit of fluff and a bit of poof! Floofy!”
“Right! Floofy!”
This word was introduced to me by a friend — a throwaway comment made while riding the train to Grand Central, the setting sun bathing us in a warm orange glow.
My animated friend, a sharp contrast to the tired Metro North passengers staring blankly at their phones.
“We’re here!’
“Wait, what was floofy?”
“All of it! The whole lot of it. Floof! Anyway, gotta run to yoga, bye!”
She sauntered off into the crowds, in a puff, in a floof. Leaving me with the taste of that word on my lips. “Floofy” I whispered under my breath. “Floofy, indeed”
Time has passed since this encounter and I’ve lost touch with this friend. But her word lives on in my brain. Describing the absurdity of our make believe lives. Of corporate jargon and political prowess. Big goals! Synergy! Snake Oil! Smoke! Mirrors! Things of seeming importance but little substance. How else to describe them, other than floofy?