Sunny day, 343 BC
Lovely horse in the grounds, only father wouldn’t buy. Found it tempestuous. Gah! It was clearly the shadow – made the beast madder than a soft bed/ full stomach/ general happiness makes Leonidas.
Odd fellow, Leonidas. Keeps peddling austerity. Greeks? Austere? Sure, will mark the date for that – on the Greek calends.
Anyway, tamed it, only to hear father say I must now go seek other kingdoms because “Macedonia’s too small for you”. Someone tell him I get lost finding my way around our castle.
Want to reward me for my astuteness? Think “science camp”, for Zeus’ sake, not “suicide mission”.
Which reminds me: mustn’t drop the Z-bomb again. Said it earlier, and father came unglued. Wonder why.
Windy day, 340 BC
Aristotle is love. Has a mind as sharp as the pointy ends of a phalanx’s blood-adorned pikes.
BUT sometimes his words are Greek to me (stupid idiom; don’t know why we even use it).
BUT he brings me the gift of wisdom.
BUT wisdom dictates one must beware Greeks bearing gifts (seriously, who writes these?)
Confused. Back to the Iliad. Book won’t finish itself for the 18th time.
Cloudy day, 323 BC
Sigh. Wiped out the Thebians, the Athenians, Darius’ men, sometimes even my own men. Brought Darius and Porus to their knees metaphorically. Overlooked one corner, but you win some, you ignore the already defeated: it’s Sparta life I guess.
Could conquer further, but soldiers are tired and want to return. One even wrote a journal. Am all for creative endeavors, but the title made me mad: “From the Lyric Age to the Pyrrhic Age”. Had to kill the draft, then him.
I’m, in Celine Dionysus’s words, all by myself.
Some days later, 323 BC
Brr. A guy can’t even live a little. Great.