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“Ummm…Cal?” asked Urania.
“Yes…what?”
“Isn’t that a photo of a place — mat?” Urania continued with the gentleness of a lazy stream.
“Uh-huh,” said Cal. “We don’t have any of those little tent cards around to write names on, so I just snapped a photo of a clean, cherry placemat.”
“Don’t you think it might be confusing for our readers?” asked Thalia with the carelessness of a teenager washing windows. “Why didn’t you snap a pic of a bookmark? We have dozens.”
Calliope took a measured breath…
“Our readers are incredibly nimble and have danced with us for some time — they understand our moves and adjust when necessary — also, I did not think of using a bookmark — that would have been a better idea — AND we don’t have time to readjust — besides then everything we’ve written so far becomes rubbish.”
As if walking across the lawn of a three dog household after a spring melt, Urania questioned, “And…what place are we holding…exactly?”
“A place for us to meet again tomorrow — where we’ll have something more to say, of course!” Calliope said with a hiss.
“Suspense, eh?” asked Thalia. “Calliope, you’re brilliant!”
Cheeks flushed, Cal said, “Now let’s get this Friday started!”
>> As if walking across the lawn of a three dog household after a spring melt
👍👏
(Not sure how well your southern readers will get that, but to someone growing up in the Midwest... 😁)
I suspect a misdirection play here. The writer, with fearless Henny in tow, are out on some secret mission. And using the muses as her foil. Hmmm. I know! In search of the best shamrock patch for next Wednesday.
There will likely be further discussion of placeholders for that special day to avoid a clash of shamrocks with cherries.