“Can you believe she was laughing?” Urania asked with her boa feathers in a ruffle. “We…could…have…died!”
“Save the drama for your mama Nia…it was funny…and we’re fine,” Calliope replied.
“Dark of early morn, icy patches everywhere, she insists on wearing those tread-worn tennis shoes, and brings that blasted dog!”
“That blasted dog is our bread and butter Urania,” said Thalia. “She gets us up and moving, stirs the creative juices, and…oh! the endless material. We wouldn’t be the same without her.”
“Fine…let’s talk about the neighbors, shall we?” Urania snarled on. “Discarded plastic cups, chip bags and…and…it was the two liter bottle that almost did us in!”
Tears ran down Calliope’s cheeks and she snorted through her laughter.
“A bucking rodeo bronco has nothing on good ol' Henny,” added Thalia with a grin. “She can toss, scrabble, and pull like a champ.”
“Litter everywhere…” Urania grumbled.
“Here…” Calliope said, handing Urania a cup of Chai. “Yesterday was garbage pick-up, remember? Sometimes the trucks spill. The neighbor’s aren’t littering on purpose.”
“And sometimes that blasted dog brings trash all the way home so we can put it in our bin,” Thalia added. “She’s a good girl.”
Urania took a sip and softened.
“Better?” asked Calliope.
“Glad to still be alive,” Urania giggled.
Out of the mouths of...muses! One never knows from whose mouth wise utterances may arise!
A dear friend used to remark, after hearing my latest grumbling, “Your logic is flawless; your premises, however, are unfounded.”
Always good to have a friend, or a few muses, to remind us of our blind spots.