A man finds something while walking around. A woman loses something while walking around.

Ori was getting tired of compiling proverbs for Bidi's collection. Ori was beginning to think Bidi was an obsessive collector of useless trivia, a...

'There should be a word for that,' Ori mused aloud, there being no one else in the room.

A nerd, said the Voice in Ori's head. Bidi is a big nerd. I love him, but that's what he is. The future will be full of such people, chuckled Prajapati, and they will adore Bidi and all collectors who leave treasure for them to find.

'Like rude proverbs that say "My gender's better than your gender, nyah, nyah",' scoffed Ori.

The fox, having urinated into the sea, said: 'The whole of the sea is my urine!'

Ori did an eyeroll while copying this. Prajapati chuckled. Really wise, huh? Reminds me of a certain science fiction writer…

'Science fict-? Oh, never mind.' The gong sounded for lunch break. Ori decided to go out for a walk.

The streets were less busy than usual because it was hot. Ori didn't go to Enlil's vegetable stand: the family was on vacation in the hill country, picking fruit and staying with rural relatives. Ori found a shady spot near the temple wall and sat down to eat wrap sandwiches and fruit. Also to admire a particularly interesting relief statue. It showed a temple guardian called a lamassu – a winged creature with a human head and the body of a lion. It made a good guardian. Nobody would mess with anything that looked like that, in Ori's opinion, at least not without wings like Ori's. When Ori wasn't in humanoid disguise.

That Thing has five legs, observed Prajapati. Ori sighed and nodded, mouth full. You know, in the future, that could lead to Conspiracy Theories…

Ori didn't answer. One, Ori's mouth was full. Two, Ori was busy listening to two women sitting on a nearby bench.

'Well, I think she's just awful!'

'My dear, you're so right! Have you seen her NOSE? It's positively Assyrian! You know she's Larsan on her father's side. Not really royal, you know, like our real princesses!'

'Oh, yes. You can tell she isn't true quality! That skin tone! And her clothes. Who designs them, Omar the Tentmaker?'

Who are they talking about? asked Prajapati.

Ori chuckled – quietly, so as not to alert the gossipy biddies. Something you don't know? Ori thought back. That's new. They're trash-talking the new princess. You see, the king's younger son married a princess from another kingdom to the west. She's really beautiful and accomplished – she can sing and dance and read and write in two languages, and she plays the harp well enough to perform in The Penthouse. Her sister-in-law is dead jealous.

I can see why the other princess would be jealous, said Prajapati, humans being what they are. But why do these women care?

It's a puzzle to me, too, Ori shrugged. It isn't as if they benefit from the doings at the palace. It's more as if the whole thing were some kind of a show for their personal entertainment. They seem to revel in being unkind and making differences that aren't there between humans.

And this from people who put up statues of winged, human-headed, five-legged lions, Ori thought privately. Prajapati, who heard everything, agreed.

'You just know she's an agent for that foreign government.'

'And have you heard? The son has her nose! It's a scandal. What if he were to inherit?'

'Small chance of that, I'd say! You know,' in an even more conspiratorial voice, 'I've heard she's planning to make the prince move back home with her.'

I wouldn't blame her, thought Prajapati and Ori at exactly the same time. This made Ori laugh out loud. The two women looked up suddenly. Their eyes narrowed when they saw Ori.

'What are you laughing at, young man?' one of them demanded suspiciously.

Her friend straightened her headdress nervously. 'You aren't from the palace, are you?'

'It isn't nice to listen to other people's conversations,' said the first woman pompously.

Ori thought quickly and replied in a loud monotone, 'In Eridug, built in abundance, the monkey sits with longing eyes in the singer's house.' Then, rising from the bench in (hopefully) a dignified and other-worldly manner, Ori sauntered away in the direction of the scriptorium.

'Oh! A sage!' said the second woman. 'That's all right. They are very spiritual, those sages.'

'But not very involved in current events,' said her friend.

Quick thinking, commented Prajapati.

'Sumerian proverbs have some use,' replied Ori and went in search of a fruit juice stand. Listening to nasty gossip made Ori thirsty.

Dmitri Gheorgheni