“Oh god that was so good woman.” He knelt on the floor. “Oh shit” she jumped up and looked at the wet spot on the sofa . “Damn see what ...ou made me do. OH man the sofa is ruined.”“Well let’s get some towels and water we can clean it up.” They worked at trying to clean it up but the light colored sofa was not quite the same. This would come to cause more problems when the daughters returned home.It was Tuesday and John was looking forward to getting to Jill’s house, which made him. In my dream, Sicily was always covered in gold. Everything was gold: the golden Baroque cities glistening under the glowing sun of August, and far away, the gently rising mountains of Theocritus directing our gaze to Homer's wine-dark sea. Now when I look back at myself at the age of fifteen, I recall only two pieces of literature that lent my monotonous school life a subtle romantic air: A la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust and the Eclogues by Virgil. For a short time I was so. More

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