Sunday, 1:30pm. Facebook conversation between Peachy and Magpie.
Peachy: Sometimes, I kind of wish I had fur. Is that weird?
Magpie: Nah, I’ve been there.
Peachy: It would be SO CUDDLY.
Magpie: So soft, and so nice. It would multiply the niceness of cuddling up in a blanket by a factor of like, a million.
Peachy: EXACTLY. You wouldn’t even need a blanket. You would be a blanket, and you could bury your face in YOURSELF, and exist as the purest form of cuddles. You wouldn’t even need a bed.
Magpie: The potential for comfort here is infinite. Every surface would be comfortable. You could curl up and nap, anywhere, anytime, because you would be a living cushion.
Peachy: Pavement? Not anymore: potential nap place. Desk? Pfft. Nap place.
Magpie: Naps, everywhere.
Peachy: I wish I was furry. Evolution can be so cruel.
Magpie: We’ll just have to content ourselves with the fact that clearly, our souls are furry.
Peachy: Yeah, cold and black and twisted and cuddly and furry.
Magpie: We’re complicated human beings.
Can you believe that neither of us is a philosophy major? I sure can.