Just Myrto (2014)
“Two small lamps on a table cast shadows across the room. Lamprocles picked one of them up and bade us good night. Socrates took the other one.
“The household has retired early this evening,” said Socrates. He placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me back to his chambers. “You’ll meet them all tomorrow.”
I said nothing. An eternity existed between tonight and tomorrow. I stole shallow breaths from the air as we entered the room. I searched for anything familiar that might bring me comfort in... my new home. The most dreadful fright possessed me as I beheld for the first time the bed of Socrates.
There was nothing frightful about the bed itself. It was larger than my own, but seemed smaller than the marital bed of my parents that I recalled from childhood—the bed where Mother died; the bed that Father burned.
Fear strangled my heart, and coldness passed through my limbs. I closed my eyes and imagined I was staring into the face of Medusa, hair of serpents, eyes that turned men to stone.MoreLess
“The household has retired early this evening,” said Socrates. He placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me back to his chambers. “You’ll meet them all tomorrow.”
I said nothing. An eternity existed between tonight and tomorrow. I stole shallow breaths from the air as we entered the room. I searched for anything familiar that might bring me comfort in... my new home. The most dreadful fright possessed me as I beheld for the first time the bed of Socrates.
There was nothing frightful about the bed itself. It was larger than my own, but seemed smaller than the marital bed of my parents that I recalled from childhood—the bed where Mother died; the bed that Father burned.
Fear strangled my heart, and coldness passed through my limbs. I closed my eyes and imagined I was staring into the face of Medusa, hair of serpents, eyes that turned men to stone.MoreLess
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