Sententia in litteris

Brian sauntered into Gabby’s room and plopped himself with a smug smile on the straight-backed chair near the door. “Have you finished reading   The Odyssey   yet? I just got done with it.” Gabriella glanced up from her book for a moment and murmured, “Been there, done that.”  “It was such a great read!” Brian exclaimed. “Homer sure knows how to write. And when you tie it to The  Iliad , it’s so much better. And the heroes in the stories are so cool and interesting!” “Like who?” Gabby queried. “Achilles, of course! He was so brave.” Gabby rolled her eyes. “He was a total butcher. Even the rivers wanted to drown him. The only reason he survived to the end of the story is because of Hera.” “I liked Ajax the Younger, too!” “He was a completely brainless monster!” Gabby remarked, trying her best to stifle back a sigh. “He went against Athena and got himself impaled on a rock.” “Boy, you really hate those two, don’t you!” Brian gasped. “You sure don’t have anything agains...

  “Wakey, Cindy Lou, wakey, wakey!” Cindy Lou woke up with a start, her eyes shot up to the ceiling and her limbs splayed apart. She had just been in the most wonderous of dreams. It had been cat heaven again, and the warm purr of her furry friends had not yet ceased to resound in her ears. A visitor to her room would be mesmerized at her immense love for everything feline. The walls,  as pink as flamingo feathers, were bedecked with her own cat sketches end to end. On one wall, fluffy blue and purple Persians danced around the canvas in circles—they were singing gleeful songs in an emerald forest of conifers. On another wall, there were skinny, short-furred, briskly jumping red Ocicats reaching out to touch the moon. She had hung up a shiny poster on the door, featuring elegant-looking British Shorthairs at a tea party in a gazebo, with rainbow cupcakes—their hats were curiously akilter. Instead of a cuckoo clock, she had a cuckoo-tabby clock that wailed its loud meows whenev...

  Clang.   The Great Time-Keeper of St. Clements in the East Tower raised both of its arms straight up to the star-studded celestial sphere. The girl, who had appeared until the previous moment, with her half-closed eyes, to have lost herself in matching steps with Prince Julius, suddenly froze solid as if a vice were clamped on her joints.   Clang . “Midnight!” she mouthed with a start. The pupils of her eyes pushed the lapis-blue iris into a thin ring.  “Home … Angry …” Her next words flashed by in a blur to Julius, so he was not quite sure, but he thought that he heard snippets about pumpkins and mice.   Clang.   Before he could form the words to find out what she meant, the beautiful maiden, as she glided away from him towards the polished bronze doors of the ballroom, whispered, “Sorry”. When Julius regained his composure, he started after the girl. But by the time he reached the door, she had already darted halfway down the stair-steps. She stumbled a...

  Our house isn’t unblemished The dishes have conquered the sink The books have taken the couch And the laundry’s starting to stink Sure, we may row a lot And we torment over what’s to come But deep inside ourselves We care for each other and then some We’ll cherish each other And we will be a treasured foursome

On a warm autumn evening When the sun bursts into fiery orange A flurry dances into view A swarm decorated with vivid shades Of crimson and golden-brown and all in between Saying their good-byes to the once-sturdy oak tree Whose tired limbs are losing the battle against time And will soon fall with the leaves.