xii. written

[heloise]

[ Lucrezia writes in curled letters, more like pictures than text, a little poetry or is it a riddle? ]

πόλυ πάκτιδος ἀδυμελεστέρα χρύσω χρυσοτέρα


[ Meanwhile she is at the laundry room, seated on the floor with her light green gown spread about her. She has both hands on one machine, watching the colors spin through the glass with amazement on her face. Yellows, blues, greens and purples! ]

[ trans.; than the lyre, far sweeter in tone than gold, more golden. ]

Comments

[heloise]

I would not demand it of you.

[secondchances]

I appreciate it. I lose enough friends with them going home, so losing one over something like this would kinda suck.

[heloise]

What would it suck, Stephanie?

[secondchances]

[................................. NO]

Just... suck. Not anything in particular. It would be bad.

[heloise]

[ She chuckles. ] It would suck away all that is good then?

[secondchances]

[yeslet'sgowiththat]

Exactly.

[heloise]

And I would never be so cruel as to subject you to such fate.

[secondchances]

Good.