Some Soup, Some Shakespeare, & Some Sounds

“Ms SleepyHead? Dost thou have life?”
I rolled over, bleary eyed. I saw Cricket, with a bowl of soup & a sympathetic smile.
“Methinks I have life, but pray good sir that I may rise to thine bowl of soup to determine whether I have life.”
“Well done,” he marveled, handing me the bowl. I took a grateful sip at the broth, which began to melt my tension. I sighed in relief.
“Dang!” Cricket cried. “That soup looks good; the pie don’t look half bad either. I wish I was sick!”
I laughed thinly, trying not to slosh my treasure trove of chicken broth. “I bet Mama Rizzo will let you lick the spoon if you beg.”
“Dude, you’re running us ragged! Why do you think I nearly died of exhaustion?”
“Okay, the rules never said exhaustion was illegal. You’ve been a bit tense, that’s all.”
“I know, I’m giving you a hard time.” I slurped up the veggie remains, completely satisfied.
Cara popped her head into the doorway. “Do you want your pie now, Xia… Xia…”
“Xiaoli,” I corrected gently. “And yes, I would.”

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