From The Archives: Doth She Yearn for Me or Merely Desire Mine Livestock?

Hark! I hath met a woman, one so fine and so fair, with hair like silk, the color of the night, whom I believe must deeply yearn for me, as our eyes met with such tender connection at the market, naught but a fortnight ago. And yet, I must sit and ponder, contemplate, and daydream, for while I swear I saw fiery desire, the throes of passion, so many songs of romance in her eyes — and what blue orbs were they, the color of the vast ocean; unexplored, still uncharted by man and god akin, deep in color and full of secrets unlearned, overflowing with intrigue — I cannot help but wonder: doth she truly seek mine companionship, or is it mine livestock that she hath cast her gaze upon?

I do not seek an answer true from you, mine dear companions and readers, but it is a question that I must shout out into the void, nonetheless. For while I am surely a fine mate for a woman so powerful and alluring as her, I know that mine cattle and mine swine, mine goats and mine sheep, mine cocks and mine waterfowl, may be more alluring than the likes of I.

Oh, Lord! What cruel machinations doth Thou have in store? For who am I, if not Seks Efar Mur, tender of the flock, and passionate lover of the beautiful!

Oh, Lord! How shall I go on, knowing not which part of me she desires — mine work-wrought hands and muscular back, or the animals which I hath spent innumerable hours caring for?

Hear me, readers and friends, and hear me well! I have found, through multitudinous encounters and experiences, that women aplenty — particularly those born after the year 1666 — know to do little more than consume stew, water thine horses, and blaspheme! And so, I must conclude, after days of deliberation and nights of desperation, that I shall never — within the hour or within the year — know if she doth yearn for me or merely desire mine livestock.

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