Expressing likes and likes on the topic of seasons,use I like,don't like,don't mind,love,hate

Electrostatics The section of CBSE Class 12 Physics electrostatic potential and capacitance notes mainly deals with the in-depth analysis of electromagnetic phenomena when they are not performing any movements. Additionally, it is divided into ten further sub-topics to study the companion processes of reaching the state. These are - 1. Electric charge In this section of Physics ch 2 Class 12 notes, you get to learn about the basic features of electric charge and its expression in Physics. Along with its basics, the sections help to understand the full potential of charge. Different aspects of Charge included in Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes are - Definition Type: Positive and Negative Charge Unit and dimensional formula Point Charge Properties of Charge Comparison of Charge and Mass Methods of Charging Electroscope 2. Coulomb's Law Force is created when charges of opposite signs attract each other, and they repulse if the signs are the same. Coulomb's law tries to define this phenomenon through a mathematical formula, explicitly mentioned in Physics Class 12 notes Chapter 2. Moreover, there is key information about the variation of the constant k and its effect on a medium. Coulomb's law's vector form and the principle of superimposition are also explained in ch 2 Physics Class 12 notes. (Image will be uploaded soon) 3. Electric Field As stated in Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes, every positively or negatively charged particle has their respective electric fields. It feels a force at the time of interaction which might be attraction or repulsion. As it arises from electric charge, it is crucial to know about its different parts like - Electric field intensity Relation between electric force and electric field Super imposition of electric field Point charge Continuous charge distributions Properties of Electric Field Lines Motion of Charged Particles in an Electric field Learning more about the electric field from electric potential and capacitance notes Class 12 helps a student to get a grasp of upcoming chapters. 4. Electric Potential Energy When energy helps a charge to move from an electric field, it is known as the Electric Potential Energy. This section of electrostatic chapter Class 12 notes requires a student to study the Electron volt (eV), and the potential energy that an n number of charges can hold. 5. Electric Potential This section of Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes focuses on in-depth learning of Electric Potential or Voltage. Basically, it defines the potential movement of energy. 6. Relation between Electric Field and Potential Apart from knowing more about the relationship between the two values, Physics Class 12 Chapter 2 notes also discuss equipotential surfaces. 7. Electric Dipole Essentially, 'Dipoles' are two opposite points of charge represented with q and –q, with their distance between each other being 2a. Electric Dipoles are crucial in your study of Physics Class 12 Chapter 2 notes to learn more about electric fields and their potential. Additionally, Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes focus on the influence of electric dipoles on a uniform electric field mainly through Force and Torque, Work, and Potential Energy. In the last part of Electrostatics, further focus is on using the formulas to their fullest potential. It includes subsections of Electric Field, Electric Potential Energy, Electric Potential, and Electric Dipole. In the notes for electrostatic potential and capacitance, you will find proper solutions accompanied by clear and crisp diagrams for better understanding. 8. Gauss's Law Apart from just discussing the Gauss's Law, in Physics Class 12 ch 2 notes there is a thorough explanation of its properties and applications. The Gauss' Law states that net electric flux passing through a hypothetical closed surface is equal to the net electric charge present within the same closed surface. Being a broad part of the whole chapter, you may need to spend a little more time on it. Moving forward, it starts discussing the properties of conductors in relation to Gauss's Law. The Class 12 Physics notes Chapter 2 perfectly defines the journey to Gauss' Law from Coulomb's Law. Here is the Gauss's Law present in the Class 12 Physics ch 2 notes, (image will be uploaded soon) 9. Capacitors There is a dedicated section about Capacitors in the Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes elucidating its functions and importance as storage of potential electric energy. After explaining the structure of a capacitor, it points out the different types, parallel plate, spherical and cylindrical. The section of Chapter 2 notes of Physics Class 12 is further divided into subheads like: Properties of an ideal battery Grouping of capacitors Simple circuits (Series and Parallel) Dielectric Van de Graaff generator Combination of drops Charge distribution method Wheatstone Bridge-based circuit Extended Wheatstone Bridge Infinite network of capacitors Redistribution of charge between two capacitors Vedantu prepares the Class 12 Physics Chapter 2 notes with help from subject matter experts. In the PDF, you get a comprehensive idea of the topic along with potential answers to the most asked questions. Furthermore, the detailed explanation on each section and subsections are written in a simple language allows a student to ace their exams with wholesome knowledge. These Physics Chapter 2 Class 12 notes are going to be one of the best supplementary study materials besides a student’s textbooks. Visit the Vedantu website or download the app to get your hands on all important notes! Important Questions A charge of 4 × 10–8C is uniformly distributed on the surface of a spherical conductor, having a radius of 15 cm. Determine the electric field just outside this sphere at a point that is 15 cm from the centre of this sphere. Determine the capacitance given that the distance between the two plates has been reduced by half and the parallel plate capacitor holds a capacitance of 20 pF (where 1pF = 10-12 F) having air between the two plates. What will be the total capacitance of a combination where three capacitors, each having a capacitance of 20 pF, are connected in series. A square having a side of 10 cm has a 500 µC charge at its centre. Determine the work done to move a charge of 10 µC between two points that are diagonally opposite each other on the square. At an equatorial point, what will be the electrostatic potential because of an electric dipole? Calculate the work done to move a test charge, q, through a length of 1 cm along the equatorial axis of an electric dipole? Polarisation A capacitor has its plates enclosed in a medium that can be filled by insulating substances. A net dipole moment is then induced by an electric field in the dielectric. This event causes the field in an opposite direction. Equipotential Surface An equipotential surface is a type of surface where the potential always has a constant value. If considered as a point charge, the concentric spheres that are centred at a particular area of this charge are basically equipotential surfaces. Advantages of Vedantu's Revision Notes: A Comprehensive Resource for Effective Learning There are several reasons why one may refer to Vedantu's revision notes for studying a subject like Electrostatic Potential and Capacitance. Here are some key points: Comprehensive Coverage: Vedantu's revision notes provide a comprehensive coverage of the entire topic, ensuring that all important concepts and subtopics are included. Concise and Organized: The notes are designed to be concise, focusing on the key points and core ideas. They are organized in a structured manner, making it easy for students to navigate and revise the content. Simplified Explanation: The revision notes offer simplified explanations of complex concepts, making them more accessible and easier to understand. This helps students grasp the material more effectively. Key Formulas and Equations: The notes highlight the key formulas and equations relevant to the topic, ensuring that students have a clear understanding of the mathematical aspects of Electrostatic Potential and Capacitance. Examples and Illustrations: Vedantu's revision notes often include examples and illustrations that help clarify concepts and provide practical applications, enabling students to better relate theory to real-world scenarios. Quick Recap: The revision notes serve as a quick recap of the important points, allowing students to review the material efficiently before exams or assessments. Exam-Oriented Approach: Vedantu's revision notes are designed with an exam-oriented approach, focusing on the topics and concepts that are frequently asked in examinations. This helps students prepare effectively and increase their chances of scoring well. Accessible Anytime: Vedantu's revision notes are easily accessible online, allowing students to study at their convenience and revise the material anytime, anywhere.

What is an official invitation letter? The companies write a letter of invitation-business when they host business visitors from abroad or from the same region or country. The business visitors can be investors; potential buyers may be conference visitors, business partners, employees of any company, or mere individuals who come for training at the company’s facilities. If a company is inviting any visitor, a representative of that company must write the letter. Also, the firms must have some specific people who would sign the invitation letters. These letters are very much precise, only containing the necessary information. The invitation letter should state the name of the business organization they represent and their relationship to the host (e.g., distributor, regional sales reps, etc.). The letter should articulate the planned dates of travel, and must be formatted professionally. What is a personal invitation letter? A Personal invitation letter is a letter one writes to invite people to a party or a social gathering at a very personal level. It is a formal request asking for the person’s presence at the event that is going to take place. All the relevant details regarding the event like the reason, date, time and venue and the dress code, if any, must be provided in the invitation letters. This will keep the guests informed, and they will feel happy to attend the event. The style and tone of the letter would depend upon the relationship between the sender and receiver. Through the letter, you should be able to make the receiver feel that you highly value his/her presence at the party or the event. A personal invitation letter can be written to invite a person to a birthday party, wedding, conference, meeting, dinner, etc. Before writing the letter, make sure you have a list of people whom you would like to invite to the party or the event. How to Write an Invitation Letter Writing an invitation letter becomes easy and swift once you get through the tips and the format of the invitation letter provided below. Usually block, semi-block or a modified block format is used for official invitation letters. The important aspects of any invitation letters are date, time, salutations and closing. For more advice refer to the tips provided. Tips for Invitation Letter Writing ● Organize the Matter – Before you draft an invitation letter ensure that you have all the required material. This material refers to a list of the people to be invited, sequential order of the events, timings of the events, special guest, official documents, photocopies and any other required item. Some items may also need to be attached along with the letter, keep them alongside. Refer to these as and when required. All the relevant documents will help you in drafting the letter. ● Drafting – You don’t just write a letter straightway and post it. It has to be reviewed and finalized. One of these processes is drafting. Drafting ensures that your mistakes and their rectification aren’t passed on to the invitation itself. Make all the mistakes in the draft itself. Drafting an invitation letter is important as sometimes we may make mistakes that we are not able to see but they are visible to others. One may require a draft to be approved by seniors before it is finalized. A second opinion from a friend or peer etc. may be required as well to determine certain things. ● Politeness – You don’t need to be told that you have to use polite language while writing an invitation letter, why would you be rude when sending an invitation? True, but you have to remind yourself of certain manners and etiquettes required of an invitation. Your invitation is your initiative, not the recipients so you need to be gracious. Always begin the letter with a welcome note instead of straightforward information of the invitation. Words of respect and gratitude are symbols of courtesy and politeness, always expressing your gratitude in the beginning and the end of the letter. ● Positive Tone – The gesture of welcome and gratitude themselves are positive points of an invitation letter. Apart from these, gestures of appreciation and anticipation are other positive points which can persuade a guest to attend the event. When you show your appreciation and anticipation towards the recipient through your words, it is an acknowledgement of his importance and thereby a positive approach. Towards this effect two tenses are used within the invitation letter, the present and the future. The present tense conveys information about the event and the future tense conveys an anticipated presence of the guest. ● Offer Assistance – An invitation being the responsibility of the sender, the assistance to the recipient by default becomes a responsibility of the host. The more facilities you provide the better the chances of someone’s attendance. You can offer pick up and drop services, accommodation, meals, provide them contact numbers in case you are not present at the venue and other required assistance. Relevant facts like date, time and venue of the event in the beginning itself is itself assisting. These assistances encourage a positive response from the invitees. ● Special Instructions – Some occasions require special instructions for the guests. These instructions can be: 1. Dress code 2. Road or route map 3. Purpose of the occasion – birthday, honor, anniversary etc. 4. Return gift 5. Response or confirmation to the invitation 6. Attire and items required for the guest to bring 7. No eatables allowed 8. Entrance only by invitation 9. 2 people per pass 10. No weapons allowed ● Length of the Matter – A simple invitation letter will only contain only the relevant facts. A simple invitation letter features an introduction which allows the sender to introduce themselves and or the organization they represent. A simple background of the individual or company is enough. Though invitations are meant to be concise and straightforward, it isn’t necessary. You can vary the length as per your need and requirement. Wedding and party invitation letters are not lengthy as compared to visit and certain personal invitation letters. ● Using Letterhead – As a rule official Invitation letters require a letterhead. Letterhead represents the sender and its inclusion is authority established. If you have a pre printed letterhead then use that. Personal Invitation letters don’t require letterheads and one can use it as per one’s desire. ● Gesture of Appreciation – Next, the appreciation for the guest to attend an activity or event must be shown. This can be completed with a formal note, stating that you look forward to seeing the individual at the event. ● Don’t forget the Enclosure – Some requests require certain documents to be attached; these can be the photocopies of documents like agreements, hard copies of email received, earlier correspondence, receipts, warranty etc. Keep original copies of all your letters, faxes, e-mails, and other related documents. ● Closing the Letter – Start the letter with Gratitude and end it with the same. It is a professional and social courtesy. At the end of your last paragraph is written, a complimentary close of the likes of ‘Sincerely’, ‘Thank you’, ‘Truly’ is essential. Close the letter by restating your appreciation and gratitude. ● Proofreading – Check for - awkward phrases, grammatical errors, incomplete sentences and spelling mistakes. Fix them with appropriate punctuation and remove dull or lifeless sentences and replace them with clever phrasing, poetry or a themed approach. This is the final step; the draft will be reviewed and revised before it acquires a proper form. Read it aloud to yourself to figure out mistakes which are missed out in writing. ● Inform in Advance – Invitation letters need to be sent in advance. Try to send the invitation letter two weeks or more in advance. The recipient needs to know in advance so that they can adjust their schedules, book tickets or make other arrangements which are essential.

The advantage of direct method is that the teacher can control the class and fit in a lot of activity into a short class period. This leaves plenty of opportunities for the students to hone their skills, especially new ones. On the other hand, because the class is centered around the teacher, some students may not receive proper feedback, and creativity is limited. Also, the lesser talented athletes often tend to get lost in the shuffle while the great athletes shine. However, there are now a multitude of various teaching strategies that can be employed in addition to that method. Ex: Announcements, Module/Unit introductions, Descriptions/modeling of assignments and learning activities, Written or video lectures, Demonstration videos, Presentations, Discussions moderated by instructors, Interactive tutorials. Indirect Method The Indirect Teaching Style allows students to be involved in their own learning through experience and other peer’s knowledge. Students can use critical thinking to expand their learning capabilities by seeing what others may be doing correct and adjusting this to their own knowledge. The Indirect approach is the opposite of what the direct style suggests, but they are both strictly related, meaning you can’t have one without the other. Direct teaching: The instructor stands in front of the class or group and lectures or advises. Indirect teaching: The instructor assumes a more passive role and guides the student interactions. Movement exploration: Incorporates the use of equipment that involves movement. Movement Exploration The movement exploration class is founded on developing a strong, positive association to physical activity. Classes are aimed at developing movement skills and foundational strength through fun and engaging activities. The activities are age appropriate and include games, challenges, and exploration that positively challenge children’s competency while improving their physical capabilities. Skills such as the ability to climb, hold animal shapes, gymnastic style activities, and the introduction to athletic motor skill competencies are the foundations to youth training. This class provides the introduction to strength training to give children the opportunity to learn the skills required to safely and confidently engage in resistance training. Cooperative Skills Cooperative activities teach students to work together for their group's common good. By participating in these activities, students can learn the skills of listening, discussing, thinking as a group, group decision making, and sacrificing individual wants for the common good. There are two primary objectives guiding the teaching of cooperative activities. First, cooperative activities allow students to apply a variety of fundamental motor skills in a unique setting. Students are typically asked to perform motor skills in a specific way, such as “skip in general space” or “balance on one foot and one elbow.” Cooperative activities ask students to perform different activities such as skip with their hands on the shoulders of someone in front of them, walk with big steps while placing their feet on small spots, or walk across an area blindfolded while someone directs their moves. Due to the uniqueness of such experiences, students often find cooperative activities exciting and motivating. Second, cooperative activities are a wonderful medium for teaching social and emotional learning (SEL). SEL offers students an opportunity to understand and manage their emotions. In addition, such activities offer an opportunity to show empathy for others and develop positive relationships. Cooperative activities demand that all students play a role in completing the task or solving the movement problem. Every student, regardless of ability level, is important and contributes to group goals. 9 traits a PE teacher often needs Here are nine essential traits of an effective PE teacher: 1. Athletic ability Athletic ability is an essential trait for a PE teacher because they're often showing kids how to perform exercises. To demonstrate proper form and encourage the kids to continue their fitness education, it's important they can perform the exercises themselves. Having experience with fitness training can enhance a PE teacher's lesson planning because they're familiar with how each exercise affects a person's body. Athletic ability can also refer to an aptitude for sports and games. PE teachers can instruct students on how to play these games or lead after-school activities involving them, like soccer or basketball. An aptitude for sports and games can help a PE teacher encourage students to participate in the activities during class. If the PE teacher enjoys physical activity, they may make the lessons more enjoyable for the student. 2. Teaching ability A PE teacher is a member of a school faculty, so it's essential they have the teaching ability that allows them to communicate lessons to students. There are various skills involved in teaching, including the technical capabilities associated with each professional's particular field. Learning these skills can help PE teacher plan their lessons effectively and connect with their students, meaning they can encourage students to practice fitness skills in optimal ways for their health. Here are some important teaching skills for PE teachers: Having an engaging classroom presence  Real-world learning  Project building  Lesson planning  Technology 3. Interpersonal skills PE coaches are part of faculty teams, so working alongside other teachers is an essential part of their job. They often collaborate with a student's general education teacher to address any behavioral issues that arise. They can also team up with other classes to plan activities for students, like field days and special field trips. Communicating with peers can ensure these interactions remain productive and create opportunities for more fulfilling lessons. Teachers can also model emotional skills for their students by displaying positive social interactions. Interpersonal skills can also help PE teachers interact with students and their families. If a student can make a student feel comfortable expressing their needs and preferences, they can often perform physical exercises or play games to the best of their individual capacities. Understanding how to soothe nerves and support students' emotional needs are important examples of interpersonal skills. When interacting with family members, you may use some of these same techniques to communicate effectively and best uplift students. 4. Written and verbal communication Both verbal and written communication is important for PE teachers because they often communicate with students, families and various personnel on a day-to-day basis. For example, a PE teacher uses their communication skills in a lesson plan to describe any student assignments or expectations accurately. They may also write instructions in a document, then explain them in a classroom lecture. They also use communication skills to share their lesson plans with other PE teachers during conferences or classroom development exercises. Many teachers continue to learn their trade even after working as a teacher for many years. They may share tips with each other or special lessons they've developed if they feel another teacher may benefit from it. Creating a community can help PE teachers continue to expand their teaching methodology and receive feedback on their lessons. 5. Patience and adaptability Working with children can require patience and adaptability because they're encountering many new concepts at the same time and learning how to regulate their emotions. As a result, it's important to treat them with patience and care while they're in your class so they can feel comfortable and feel motivated to complete assignments. As children become teenagers, they may require patience and adaptability to account for their changing bodies and attention spans. Like any job where you perform tasks in real-time, certain circumstances may occur that require you to adapt lesson plans. For example, if the weather turns from sunshine to rain on a day you planned for students to run a mile outside, you may need to adapt the lesson plan so they can practice endurance sports inside a gymnasium instead. 6. Organization PE teachers can use organization skills to improve their lesson planning sessions. For example, they can keep their plans in one place, and determine which parts of a semester or quarter to introduce new concepts. Throughout the year, these objectives may change because of unforeseen setbacks, but organizational skills can help PE teachers control the trajectory of their class curriculum. PE teachers can also use organizational skills to maintain their classroom space. Physical education frequently requires balls, equipment and tools to play games that may be on a lesson plan. They also organize equipment and decide where to store it within their classroom or storage space. 7. Creativity Creativity can help a PE teacher develop fun ways to introduce new material to their students or reinforce previous lessons. They can teach new games or devise interesting ideas to change the rules of a game to help keep students engaged. To find inspiration for their lesson plans, they can turn to personal hobbies or media aspects they enjoy, like movie scenes, songs or dances. A varied lesson plan can foster more engagement among students who prefer action- based learning activities, rather than lectures. 8. Focus Focus is an essential trait of a PE teacher because students often require their full attention during class, especially if they're learning a complicated physical task. You can focus your lesson plans around specific elements of physical education you believe are essential for students of a certain age group or skill level. If students require mentorship, you can also focus on each student's needs to supply them with a steady support system. Focusing on your students can help guide your career purpose. It can give you a core value system that informs your lesson plans and mentorship activities. This passion for your student's well-being can also help you become an advocate for each student in your class. You can also help organize funding for different field trips or establish after-school activities to support their interests. 9. Enthusiasm for teaching sports and fitness Enthusiasm is essential for a PE teacher. Many physical education activities require high energy and may suit someone who enjoys teaching them to others. Being an effective PE teacher also requires an enthusiasm for working with kids and making a positive impact on their lives.

Make a vocabulary quiz with below.Crisis: a very difficult situation or emergency; “Investors are worried that continuing problems in the stock market might lead to another financial crisis.” Short-staffed: not having enough employees or workers; “We laid off dozens of employees to save money, but now we’re short-staffed and can’t fill orders quickly.” To drive someone nuts: to make someone upset or annoyed; “The autocorrect feature on my mobile phone really drives me nuts.” To arise: to happen or start to develop, especially for problems or situations; “Problems arose for the developers when local residents voted against construction of the new shopping mall.” To moan: to complain about something, especially in a way that bothers other people; “Every Monday morning my colleagues moan about having to come to the office so early.” Optimism: the feeling or belief that good things will happen; “Analysts are expressing optimism that the real estate market will bounce back quickly.” Pessimism: the tendancy or belief that the worst will happen. “Now is not the time for pessimism, we need to believe we can do this or we will fail.” Hurdle: a problem that must be overcome or dealt with in order to reach a goal or do something; “Lack of capital is a major hurdle for many young entrepreneurs with good business ideas.” © 2013 All rights reserved: www.businessenglishpod.com 2 To give up: to stop trying to do or achieve something; “After being rejected by over a dozen universities, Roger gave up on his plans to study for an MBA.” To keep your eye on the prize: to stay motivated and focused on your final goal or reward; “Okay folks, I know things have been really busy, but let’s keep our eye on the prize and we’ll get this done before Christmas.” Down the road: in the future; “Sales our good in our retail outlets, but 10 years down the road we’re going to have to be more competitive in the online market.” To overcome: to deal with a problem successfully; “You are going to have to overcome your lack of confidence if you want to be a good salesman.” Decisiveness: having the ability to make decisions and act firmly. “Decisiveness is a quality we look for in new managers.” Bumpy: we can use “bumpy” to describe a road or process that has many problems; “We had a pretty bumpy start-up phase, but we finally managed to turn a profit in our fifth year of operations.” To display: to show a feeling, emotion, or characteristic; “David displayed tremendous preparation and diplomacy during the negotiations.” On the fence: someone who is “on the fence” is having difficulty making a decision or taking a position; “While the executives support expansion wholeheartedly, the shareholders are still on the fence about it.” All-in: in poker, if you are “all-in” you put all your money on one bet, but we can use this expression more generally to say you are completely committed to something, especially a plan; “This sounds like a good idea, but before I go all-in I need to know more about the project partners.” To have what it takes: to have the ability or intelligence to do something; “I thought I’d enjoy law, but after a few years as a junior lawyer I realized I don’t really have what it takes.

Sure! Here's a solid list of **AP English Literature vocabulary**—terms that often come up in class, essays, and the AP exam. I'll break it down into categories to make it easier to study. --- ### 📚 **Literary Devices & Techniques** 1. **Alliteration** – Repetition of initial consonant sounds 2. **Allusion** – A reference to another text, event, or figure 3. **Anaphora** – Repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses 4. **Antithesis** – Contrast of ideas in a balanced or parallel construction 5. **Apostrophe** – Addressing someone absent, dead, or nonhuman as if present and able to respond 6. **Assonance** – Repetition of vowel sounds within nearby words 7. **Asyndeton** – Omission of conjunctions between parts of a sentence 8. **Consonance** – Repetition of consonant sounds, often at the end of words 9. **Diction** – Word choice (formal, informal, colloquial, etc.) 10. **Enjambment** – Continuation of a sentence without pause beyond the end of a line in poetry --- ### 🧠 **Figurative Language** 1. **Hyperbole** – Extreme exaggeration 2. **Imagery** – Descriptive language that appeals to the senses 3. **Irony** - *Verbal*: Saying the opposite of what’s meant - *Situational*: When the outcome is the opposite of what's expected - *Dramatic*: Audience knows something characters don’t 4. **Metaphor** – A direct comparison without using "like" or "as" 5. **Metonymy** – Substituting the name of one thing with something closely related (e.g. "The crown" for royalty) 6. **Synecdoche** – A part representing the whole (e.g. "All hands on deck") 7. **Personification** – Giving human traits to nonhuman things 8. **Simile** – A comparison using "like" or "as" 9. **Symbol** – An object, character, or color that represents something beyond itself --- ### ✍️ **Poetic & Rhetorical Terms** 1. **Caesura** – A pause in a line of poetry, often marked by punctuation 2. **Couplet** – Two lines of poetry that usually rhyme 3. **Iambic Pentameter** – A line with five iambs (unstressed-stressed syllables) 4. **Blank Verse** – Unrhymed iambic pentameter 5. **Free Verse** – Poetry with no fixed meter or rhyme 6. **Elegy** – A mournful poem, often for the dead 7. **Ode** – A lyric poem expressing emotion, often in honor of something 8. **Sonnet** – A 14-line poem with a specific rhyme scheme (Shakespearean or Petrarchan) --- ### 📖 **Narrative & Structure Terms** 1. **Tone** – The author's attitude toward the subject 2. **Mood** – The feeling or atmosphere the reader experiences 3. **Theme** – The central idea or message in a work 4. **Motif** – A recurring element that has symbolic significance 5. **Foil** – A character who contrasts with another character to highlight traits 6. **Foreshadowing** – Clues or hints about what will happen later 7. **Juxtaposition** – Placing two elements side by side to present a contrast 8. **Point of View** – Perspective from which the story is told (1st, 2nd, 3rd person) 9. **Stream of Consciousness** – Narrative style that mimics thoughts and feelings 10. **Frame Narrative** – A story within a story --- Want me to make flashcards, a quiz, or a PDF study guide with these? Or need help using them in a literary analysis essay?

She went by the name of Belisa Crepusculario, not because she had been baptized with that name or given it by her mother, but because she herself had searched until she found the poetry of "beauty" and "twilight" and cloaked herself in it. She made her living selling words. She journeyed through the country from the high cold mountains to the burning coasts, stopping at fairs and in markets where she set up four poles covered by a canvas awning under which she took refuge from the sun and rain to minister to her customers. She did not have to peddle her merchandise because from having wandered far and near, everyone knew who she was. Some people waited for her from one year to the next, and when she appeared in the village with her bundle beneath her arm, they would form a line in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos she delivered verses from memory, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she invented insults for irreconcilable enemies. She also sold stories, not fantasies but long, true stories she recited at one telling, never skipping a word. This is how she carried news from one town to another. People paid her to add a line or two: our son was born, so-and-so died, our children got married, the crops burned in the field. Wherever she went a small crowd gathered around to listen as she began to speak, and that was how they learned about each others' doings, about distant relatives, about what was going on in the civil war. To anyone who paid her fifty centavos in trade, she gave the gift of a secret word to drive away melancholy. It was not the same word for everyone, naturally, because that would have been collective dece it. Each person received his or her own word, with the assurance that no one else would use it that way in this universe or the Beyond. Belisa Crepusculario had been born into a family so poor they did not even have names to give their children. She came into the world and grew up in an inhospitable land where some years the rains became avalanches of water that bore everything away before them and others when not a drop fell from the sky and the sun swelled to fill the horizon and the world became a desert. Until she was twelve, Belisa had no occupation or virtue other than having withstood hunger and the exhaustion of centuries. During one interminable drought, it fell to her to bury four younger brothers and sisters, when she realized that her turn was next, she decided to set out across the 2 plains in the direction of the sea, in hopes that she might trick death along the way. The land was eroded, split with deep cracks, strewn with rocks, fossils of trees and thorny bushes, and skeletons of animals bleached by the sun. From time to time she ran into families who, like her, were heading south, following the mirage of water. Some had begun the march carrying their belongings on their back or in small carts, but they could barely move their own bones, and after a while they had to abandon their possessions. They dragged themselves along painfully, their skin turned to lizard hide and their eyes burned by the reverberating glare. Belisa greeted them with a wave as she passed, but she did not stop, because she had no strength to waste in acts of compassion. Many people fell by the wayside, but she was so stubborn that she survived to cross through that hell and at long last reach the first trickles of water, fine, almost invisible threads that fed spindly vegetation and farther down widened into small streams and marshes. Belisa Crepusculario saved her life and in the process accidentally discovered writing. In a village near the coast, the wind blew a page of newspaper at her feet. She picked up the brittle yellow paper and stood a long while looking at it, unable to determine its purpose, until curiosity overcame her shyness. She walked over to a man who was washing his horse in the muddy pool where she had quenched her thirst. "What is this?" she asked. "The sports page of the newspaper," the man replied, concealing his surprise at her ignorance. The answer astounded the girl, but she did not want to seem rude, so she merely inquired about the significance of the fly tracks scattered across the page. "Those are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out El Negro Tiznao in the third round." That was the day Belisa Crepusculario found out that words make their way in the world without a master, and that anyone with a little cleverness can appropriate them and do business with them. She made a quick assessment of her situation and concluded that aside from becoming a prostitute or working as a servant in the kitchens of the rich there were few occupations she was qualified for. It seemed to her that selling words would be an honorable alternative. From that moment on, she worked at that profession, and was never tempted by any other. At the beginning, she offered her merchandise unaware that words could be written outside of newspapers. When she learned otherwise, she calculated the infinite possibilities of her trade and with her savings paid a priest twenty pesos to teach her to read and write, with her three 3 remaining coins she bought a dictionary. She poured over it from A to Z and then threw it into the sea, because it was not her intention to defraud her customers with packaged words. One August morning several years later, Belisa Crepusculario was sitting in her tent in the middle of a plaza, surrounded by the uproar of market day, selling legal arguments to an old man who had been trying for sixteen years to get his pension. Suddenly she heard yelling and thudding hoofbeats. She looked up from her writing and saw, first, a cloud of dust, and then a band of horsemen come galloping into the plaza. They were the Colonel's men, sent under orders of El Mulato, a giant known throughout the land for the speed of his knife and his loyalty to his chief. Both the Colonel and El Mulato had spent their lives fighting in the civil war, and their names were ineradicably linked to devastation and calamity. The rebels swept into town like a stampeding herd, wrapped in noise, bathed in sweat, and leaving a hurricane of fear in their trail. Chickens took wing, dogs ran for their lives, women and children scurried out of sight, until the only living soul left in the market was Belisa Crepusculario. She had never seen El Mulato and was surprised to see him walking toward her. "I'm looking for you," he shouted, pointing his coiled whip at her, even before the words were out, two men rushed her -- knocking over her canopy and shattering her inkwell -- bound her hand and foot, and threw her like a sea bag across the rump of El Mulato's mount. Then they thundered off toward the hills. Hours later, just as Belisa Crepusculario was near death, her heart ground to sand by the pounding of the horse, they stopped, and four strong hands set her down. She tried to stand on her feet and hold her head high, but her strength failed her and she slumped to the ground, sinking into a confused dream. She awakened several hours later to the murmur of night in the camp, but before she had time to sort out the sounds, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the impatient glare of El Mulato, kneeling beside her. "Well, woman, at last you've come to," he said. To speed her to her senses, he tipped his canteen and offered her a sip of liquor laced with gunpowder. She demanded to know the reason for such rough treatment, and El Mulato explained that the Colonel needed her services. He allowed her to splash water on her face, and then led her to the far end of the camp where the most feared man in all the land was lazing in a hammock strung between two trees. She could not see his face, because he lay in the deceptive shadow of the leaves and the indelible shadow of all his years as a bandit, but she imagined from the way his 4 gigantic aide addressed him with such humility that he must have a very menacing expression. She was surprised by the Colonel's voice, as soft and well-modulated as a professor's. "Are you the woman who sells words?" he asked. "At your service," she stammered, peering into the dark and trying to see him better. The Colonel stood up, and turned straight toward her. She saw dark skin and the eyes of a ferocious puma, and she knew immediately that she was standing before the loneliest man in the world. "I want to be President," he announced. The Colonel was weary of riding across that godforsaken land, waging useless wars and suffering defeats that no subterfuge could transform into victories. For years he had been sleeping in the open air, bitten by mosquitoes, eating iguanas and snake soup, but those minor inconveniences were not why he wanted to change his destiny. What truly troubled him was the terror he saw in people's eyes. He longed to ride into a town beneath a triumphal arch with bright flags and flowers everywhere, he wanted to be cheered, and be given newly laid eggs and freshly baked bread. Men fled at the sight of him, children trembled, and women miscarried from fright, he had had enough, and so he had decided to become President. El Mulato had suggested that they ride to the capital, gallop up to the Palace, and take over the government, the way they had taken so many other things without anyone's permission. The Colonel, however, did not want to be just another tyrant, there had been enough of those before him and, besides, if he did that, he would never win people's hearts. It was his aspiration to win the popular vote in the December elections. "To do that, I have to talk like a candidate. Can you sell me the words for a speech?" the Colonel asked Belisa Crepusculario. She had accepted many assignments, but none like this. She did not dare refuse, fearing that El Mulato would shoot her between the eyes, or worse still, that the Colonel would burst into tears. There was more to it than that, however, she felt the urge to help him because she felt a throbbing warmth beneath her skin, a powerful desire to touch that man, to fondle him, to clasp him in her arms. All night and a good part of the following day, Belisa Crepusculario searched her repertory for words adequate for a presidential speech, closely watched by El Mulato, who could not take his eyes from her firm wanderer's legs and virginal breasts. She discarded harsh, cold words, words 5 that were too flowery, words worn from abuse, words that offered improbable promises, untruthful and confusing words, until all she had left were words sure to touch the minds of men and women's intuition. Calling upon the knowledge she had purchased from the priest for twenty pesos, she wrote the speech on a sheet of paper and then signaled El Mulato to untie the rope that bound her ankles to a tree. He led her once more to the Colonel, and again she felt the throbbing anxiety that had seized her when she first saw him. She handed him the paper and waited while he looked at it, holding it gingerly between thumbs and fingertips. "What the shit does this say," he asked finally. "Don't you know how to read?" "War's what I know," he replied. She read the speech aloud. She read it three times, so her client could engrave it on his memory. When she finished, she saw the emotion in the faces of the soldiers who had gathered round to listen, and saw that the Colonel's eyes glittered with enthusiasm, convinced that with those words the presidential chair would be his. "If after they've heard it three times, the boys are still standing there with their mouths hanging open, it must mean the thing's damn good, Colonel" was El Mulato's approval. "All right, woman. How much do I owe you?" the leader asked. "One peso, Colonel." "That's not much," he said, opening the pouch he wore at his belt, heavy with proceeds from the last foray. "The peso entitles you to a bonus. I'm going to give you two secret words," said Belisa Crepusculario. "What for?" She explained that for every fifty centavos a client paid, she gave him the gift of a word for his exclusive use. The Colonel shrugged. He had no interest at all in her offer, but he did not want to be impolite to someone who had served him so well. She walked slowly to the leather stool where he was sitting, and bent down to give him her gift. The man smelled the scent of a mountain cat issuing from the woman, a fiery heat radiating from her hips, he heard the terrible whisper of her hair, and a breath of sweetmint murmured into his ear the two secret words that were his alone. "They are yours, Colonel," she said as she stepped back. "You may use them as much as you 6 please." El Mulato accompanied Belisa to the roadside, his eyes as entreating as a stray dog's, but when he reached out to touch her, he was stopped by an avalanche of words he had never heard before; believing them to be an irrevocable curse, the flame of his desire was extinguished. During the months of September, October, and November the Colonel delivered his speech so many times that had it not been crafted from glowing and durable words it would have turned to ash as he spoke. He travelled up and down and across the country, riding into cities with a triumphal air, stopping in even the most forgotten villages where only the dump heap betrayed a human presence, to convince his fellow citizens to vote for him. While he spoke from a platform erected in the middle of the plaza, El Mulato and his men handed out sweets and painted his name on all the walls in gold frost. No one paid the least attention to those advertising ploys; they were dazzled by the clarity of the Colonel's proposals and the poetic lucidity of his arguments, infected by his powerful wish to right the wrongs of history, happy for the first time in their lives. When the Candidate had finished his speech, his soldiers would fire their pistols into the air and set off firecrackers, and when finally they rode off, they left behind a wake of hope that lingered for days on the air, like the splendid memory of a comet's tail. Soon the Colonel was the favorite. No one had ever witnessed such a phenomenon: a man who surfaced from the civil war, covered with scars and speaking like a professor, a man whose fame spread to every corner of the land and captured the nation's heart. The press focused their attention on him. Newspapermen came from far away to interview him and repeat his phrases, and the number of his followers and enemies continued to grow. "We're doing great, Colonel," said El Mulato, after twelve successful weeks of campaigning. But the Candidate did not hear. He was repeating his secret words, as he did more and more obsessively. He said them when he was mellow with nostalgia; he murmured them in his sleep; he carried them with him on horseback; he thought them before delivering his famous speech; and he caught himself savoring them in his leisure time. And every time he thought of those two words, he thought of Belisa Crepusculario, and his senses were inflamed with the memory of her feral scent, her fiery heat, the whisper of her hair, and her sweetmint breath in his ear, until he began to go around like a sleepwalker, and his men realized that he might die before he ever sat in the presidential chair. "What's got hold of you, Colonel," El Mulato asked so often that finally one day his chief broke 7 down and told him the source of his befuddlement: those two words that were buried like two daggers in his gut. "Tell me what they are and maybe they'll lose their magic," his faithful aide suggested. "I can't tell them, they're for me alone," the Colonel replied. Saddened by watching his chief decline like a man with a death sentence on his head, El Mulato slung his rifle over his shoulder and set out to find Belisa Crepusculario. He followed her trail through all that vast country, until he found her in a village in the far south, sitting under her tent reciting her rosary of news. He planted himself, spraddle-legged, before her, weapon in hand. "You! You're coming with me," he ordered. She had been waiting. She picked up her inkwell, folded the canvas of her small stall, arranged her shawl around her shoulders, and without a word took her place behind El Mulato's saddle. They did not exchange so much as a word in all the trip; El Mulato's desire for her had turned into rage, and only his fear of her tongue prevented his cutting her to shreds with his whip. Nor was he inclined to tell her that the Colonel was in a fog, and that a spell whispered into his ear had done what years of battle had not been able to do. Three days later they arrived at the encampment, and immediately, in view of all the troops, El Mulato led his prisoner before the Candidate. "I brought this witch here so you can give her back her words, Colonel," El Mulato said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the woman's head. "And then she can give you back your manhood." The Colonel and Belisa Crepusculario stared at each other, measuring one another from a distance. The men knew then that their leader would never undo the witchcraft of those accursed words, because the whole world could see the voracious-puma eyes soften as the woman walked to him and took his hand in hers. Copyright © 1989 by Isabel Allende From The Stories of Eva Luna, Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

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