“Isn’t that a beautiful sentence?” asked the Muse of Many Questions.
“Can you call Natalie’s muses Cal? Maybe they have some tips for us?” Urania asked.
“This isn’t the sixties… and I’m not your secretary. Message them yourself.” Calliope was in a mood and couldn’t quite explain why.
“Babbitt’s opening sentence of Tuck Everlasting always reminds me of the fair.” Thalia sighed and recalled a story the trio once wrote about a boy absently reaching out to scratch the head of his prize-winning sheep. It was almost as if she could feel love in the memory.
“He was more interested in the girl on the stool beside him than he was in the sheep… like Fern in Charlotte’s Web, leaving Wilbur, running off with Henry Fussy to ride the Ferris Wheel.” Cal gazed out the window.
”Remember what Van Gogh said?” asked Thalia. “Look…”
Au contraire. Isn't love beyond trouble.? And Van Gogh? Could it be the place in Rumi's field where trouble is absent?