An Unexpected Message

My dear friend Portia, wife of Marcus Junius Brutus, has sent her servant to me to deliver a verbal note of concern. I committed the words to memory, but I do admit some may have fallen over the path from the courtyard to my chamber. (I shall return to pick them up once my post is complete. Juls is especially talented in discovering my secret prose when I leave tracks of vowels on the marble.) She sent the following.

Dearest Calpurnia,
I have wondered of recent for my beloved's health. He seems not well. Has Julius made mention of my Marcus' present state? I will wait to hear from you, surely anon. 


Your faithful acquaintance and committed citizen of Rome,
P.B.

I shall write back to her, presently. Although, I cannot imagine why a simple text or tweet about the situation would not have satisfied her concern. Perhaps she could not make a commitment of the words to written text. Or, she has not yet mastered the skills needed to communicate through the airways. So behind the times! Hmph.

Warning in the Square

Totally forgot to mention that during Feast Day a soothsayer (!!) warned my beloved to beware the Ides of March. Although he dismissed the counsel of the prophet, I spoke to the enchanting man after the race began. He told me to encourage Juls to stay close to our own living quarters, especially on the fifteenth day of this month. I know that swaying my dear husbands mind to take leave of his duties to Rome is a daunting task, but I shall rely on my clairvoyance to lend me the key to keeping him out of harms way. I would prefer furthering my work in my chamber on this plan than joining in the public festivities, anyway. Perhaps I'll even contrive a spell to swell my womb and appease my sodden husband.

Feast Day

This morn, before the ceremonial run through the city, Julius perpended that Antony touch me as a cure for my barrenness. What a zany idea! I was totes offended by this gesture. I even whispered in his ear, "Thou request will be acquiesced, but I resent this public announcement of our familial challenges." Antony, as the biznitch he is, practically tripped over himself to satisfy him. I'm utterly positive it will come true, since the great Caesar said it.