Calypso

The smell of urine; somewhat disconcerting when eating breakfast.  In addition, wiff of burning; more reassuring; stimulating thoughts of millions of germs incinerating.  When did you last eat offal for breakfast?  It was Winchester with my aunt.  Plates pilled so high with every conceivable treat.  Bingo, a full house.  A legend in its own time.

Calypso, my Niece.  Surely this side, the closest one gets to perfection.  I came home today and prepared an evening meal.  Nipped out with my daughter Eve.  Came back to find we have two chefs, and I was the sous.  Too many cooks- too much food.  Calypso had beat me to a slow cooked broth.  Must be more careful next time.   Book a cook, or slot a time, to wash the kitchen floor.

Calypso- there from the beginning.  While you're waiting, let's go out with visiting brother Paul for a spot of dune hopping by the coast.  Wish you were here.  In the park; tennis with the delicate young one. I'm playing casual, wearing a straw hat.  "He's mad, what are doing with him?"  But I'm linked to the other on. Penelope. Our roots are entwined, for better, for worse.  We are together.

Why do stupid people not see treasure before them? Candide marveled as Eldoradoian children discarded their golden toys.  To him astonishingly inexplicable.

Open our eyes.  We need foreign eyes to see for us.

Ulysses