Librarian of Alexandria

V: The Last Glass Of A Vintage Untasted By Human Lips, or, The Postprandial Prattle

Mrs. Veliociraptor was having Mrs. Utahraptor over for some incredibly pleasant afternoon tea. The scones were fresh and smelled of blueberries and strife and the sugar-cubes were just old enough that they gave off the most delicate moaning noise when separated.

"Rather afraid the mice got to the cake. Left it on the lower shelves by mistake."

"Oh, bother!" Mrs. Utahraptor replied. "That was the cake you were telling Mrs. Pterodactyl about, weren't you? A post-structuralist screed with a frosting of hedge funds?"

"No. I made that cake last month for the widow of ol' Mrs. Smilodon, rest her soul. No, this one was a long brown one--hazelnuts, cinnamon, and mondegreens of songs you heard from your parents' room when you were young and have never heard since."

"Mrs. Deionychus has a good one. It's fear, hanging cadence and possible lovers who have forgotten your face and whose sudden unexpected appearance on the street drowns you in a flood of possible realities just out of reach of a time you can barely remember."

"Ooh, that was a good one. I liked her almond, too."

They talked for a while longer, but before long their speech was mathematical symbols, so who knows what they were saying for sure?