Jars of Clay
“Though not ravishingly beautiful like some of the statue goddesses, he found her countenance striking. She was soft with youthful womanly curves, and her skin was clear and smooth as alabaster with just a smattering of sun-kissed freckles on her nose. Her lips were round and moist; he imagined what it would be like to kiss….
“Lucius! Am I boring you?”
“No, no of course, not.” Lucius sat straighter, careful to erase all emotion from his face. “I, my mind…”
“It’s okay. It’s hard to concentrate wh...en it’s so hot out.” Helena pushed a stray auburn curl behind her ear. “Have you heard of the Aeneid?”
“Yes, I know of the Aeneid, and about Virgil of course,” Lucius said. He silently rebuked himself for letting his mind wander. Especially about her.
“My father told me the Aeneid takes up where Homer’s Iliad left off, even though he wrote the Iliad in Greek and Virgil wrote in Latin.” She sat across from him on the blanket she’d begun to bring with her daily.MoreLess
“Lucius! Am I boring you?”
“No, no of course, not.” Lucius sat straighter, careful to erase all emotion from his face. “I, my mind…”
“It’s okay. It’s hard to concentrate wh...en it’s so hot out.” Helena pushed a stray auburn curl behind her ear. “Have you heard of the Aeneid?”
“Yes, I know of the Aeneid, and about Virgil of course,” Lucius said. He silently rebuked himself for letting his mind wander. Especially about her.
“My father told me the Aeneid takes up where Homer’s Iliad left off, even though he wrote the Iliad in Greek and Virgil wrote in Latin.” She sat across from him on the blanket she’d begun to bring with her daily.MoreLess
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