. . . HEDONISTIC GIRLWe seek ourselves in metaphors,Never knowing who or what we areUntil we learn who and what we are not,And, bereft of the opposite...sex,I wonder as I wander, seeking, on my quest,A mirror to mirror my true soul,A fountain of the deep that is deeper yetThan the soul I keep, a looking-glassThat does not look upon a topsy-turvyWorld of white rabbits and caterpillars,But it is too much, I think, to ask,And I simplify, hearing, smelling, tasting,Touching, blind to the rest of. He looked at the boy:“Seems you’re popular. I don’t see why”“Because father dotes on him, he is the favourite” volunteered the youngest girl “losing him would destroy father”“Yet he didn’t love him enough to offer a ransom. Not that it would help”“I knew that” the merchant said “that is why I kept silent” he lied. The merchant was venal, devious, and a liar. He was exactly what the governor hoped, that was the kind of good businessman he needed. He needed to find a workable solution to bind Mr. More

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