How strong must a person be?
P
I feel like dry smoke. And smoke twists and turns inside, not knowing which way to go. Nothing is hotter than the heat of anger.
Charaxos—how the name burns my tongue, sears my tablet. It is impossible to concentrate!
It wasn’t enough for us to quarrel over money! You, with your scarab, your Egyptian clothes, your obelisks, your slaves, your woman!
Perhaps Kleis is mistaken. Children are given to exaggeration.
I don’t know what to believe.
P
Today, an earthquake shook our island, sloshing water from our courtyard fountain, making birds cry out. As the walls of the house trembled, I shut my eyes, thinking: No, not yet...there’s still so much.
And I made up my mind to go out more, to get about more. With Kleis. We need more time together.