Socrates Finds His Calling
This story is a bit rambling. I was asked to pick the theme for this week. Rather than select from the usual group of topics, i decided to make a list of Jeopardy categories and pick something from that list.
I came up with:
- Amateur lumberjacks of the ancient world
- Words beginning with the number 5
- Fluffy farm animals
- "What am I drinking?"
- Three feet above the earth
- Nature scenes I wish I could un-see
I was unable to pick only one. They are all so very good yet horrible at the same time. I asked my son to do the selecting. The response was he was planning on using them all and challenged me to do the same.
I decided to go him one better. As bonus points, I incorporated the exact wordings of each of the six themes at some point during the story.
Disclaimer: I am aware that none of the primary characters were young men at the same time and the Hindu (aka Arabic) numbering system was not invented until centuries later. I hide behind artistic license as defense for any historical inaccuracies.
Young Socrates swung his tawny axe. A beautiful swing and perfect hit, precisely three feet above the earth on which he stood. Sweat glistened on his brow, his muscles ached. Still he swung and swung and swung, hitting the olive wood log over and over again. He wanted more than anything to steal a glance at the competition. Did he have a chance? Coach had admonished him after the last Olympics to never get distracted, never lose focus. He took another swing. He heard a cheer go up. Sneaking a glance, he saw Pericles had finished. The young man stood, breathing heavily, arms held high, drinking in the cheers from the crowd.