I always dreamed of being well-versed in the classics; proficient in Latin, faster than bears, able to sip orange juice with Socrates on the balcony of his Caravan… We had many many good times but they had to end, my friends. For the classical age was doomed to end the moment all its records were eaten by a hungry scholar who couldn’t be bothered going to the corner store.
ARIADNE AND THE VINE
By Leah O’Hearn
Namque fluentisono prospectans litore Diae,
Thesea cedentem celeri cum classe tuetur
indomitos in corde gerens Ariadna furores,
necdum etiam sese quae visit visere credit,
utpote fallaci quae tum primum excita somno
desertam in sola miseram se cernat harena.
“He broke up with me. Where should I go now?” Ariadne stared hard at her laptop while the waves lapped at the shore in the background. She hit ‘enter’ furiously and then glared at her surroundings. She was on an idyllic island for fuck’s sake! Why couldn’t he abandon her some place horrible, some place she would be happy to leave behind? No, the bastard had to pick someplace beautiful, some place she’d fallen in love with and now had to leave…because, well, she couldn’t stay now, could she? (more…)