FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

All in all, I made some excellent progress before one phone call soured my mood.

My hands were sore from the amount of sewing and delicate threading I'd performed on the pair of giant devil wings I'd been forging for Halloween. More than one distracted occasion resulted in a needle piercing my skin like hornet stings, leading to me taking out a bandage from the box I kept inside of the sewing kit for experience's sake, then carried on without blinking. Hours of work and an occasional break concluded with me marveling at the pair of wings finished, shaped like a bat and capable of easily fitting on a shoulder strap that would be hidden underneath the rest of my themed costume.

Then...I heard my phone ringing to the sound of death metal. Reaching for it on the table counter, a familiar bitterness returned to my tastebuds once I read the caller ID.

I groaned, answering with feigned interest. “Hey…Mom."

“Todd! It's been a while!" exclaimed the voice of a woman who clearly had too much time on her hands since her only son left, devoting it to condescending phone calls periodically to micromanage his life. “How are you doing lately? Did you find a job yet?"

Mom and I had always maintained a…strained relationship, to be honest. Even though Dad had the decency to keep his opinions about my 'strange quirks' to himself, she did not. She couldn't comprehend the idea of her own son having a hobby that paid the bills.

Our irregular phone calls usually never deviated beyond her saying 'hello', immediately asking if I found a job, a dumb story of hers where a poor cashier didn't give her a discount or some shit, then another dumb story revolving around her group of friends in their collective suburban bubble, followed by me trying to tell my own story of something that happened to before getting interrupted again, this time to remind me of something she wanted to do. Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to hang up on Mom, but nobody—not even her version of God—could get away with such an act.

Not without getting an earful of lectures and angry texts.

Even when I asked for her to thank her furrier friend once again for the fox skins, Mom could not resist turning it around to getting me a 'better job'. “I'll be sure to do that then," she answered, then cheerfully yet insistently asked, “So Todd, I hope they're more than satisfactory for that little hobby of yours?"

“They…" I tightly gripped my phone, threatening to crack the screen, “They sure are, Mom. T-Thanks again."

Minutes of deflecting her passive-aggressive questions later, we finally hung up on each other. The judgmental silence only remained. The sense of accomplishment and fulfillment I felt from before now suddenly turned to sour envy. Why couldn't she see how hard I worked on my 'little hobby'? Why couldn't the others online see that I put blood, sweat and tears into the new Swift Kitsune?

So, what if the entire fursuit is made of fox fur? I asked myself bitterly. God, I need to be anything but sober right now…

Through the room's nearby window, I could spot the sun setting over the dark shapes of other buildings in downtown. The time on my smart phone read 6:45 PM, but even with the extra amount of time on my hands before bedtime, the call with Mom drained me of any further work on the other side projects.

Hours passed as I wasted time on my couch, surfing through Netflix with a beer can clenched in my calloused, bandaged hand. Whatever troubles or plot lines the main characters onscreen were going through slowly blurred together as the beer can became two, then three, on and on. I eventually drank down the last of the six pack before squeezing the aluminum into a small statue that belonged more in an alcoholic father's trailer than a popular furry's dwelling.

“Fucking bitch…" I mumbled under my inebriated breath, the taste of stale beer lingering on each uneven word. “Fu…Fucking cunts…Think they can tell me what to do…I'm the KING of the fandom! Imma god compared to them…Can do whatever want whenever want—"

Yip, yip, yip!

The loose muscles all over my body suddenly became rigid. “What the…?"

Confused at first, I slowly craned my neck down the short distance between the living room and the door leading to a soft bed. A second of silence ticked by, followed by another and then six more.

I shook my head and laughed casually, turning back to the TV across the room while relaxing back into the couch. Despite considering myself a heavy drinker, my tired, inebriated mind convinced itself I probably misheard the plumbing, or maybe one of the neighbors were watching a nature documentary. Some shit like that.

Minutes later…

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