Another evening, another day

Chryseis laid stretched out on her mahogany chaise lounge staring blankly at the ancient oil paintings of her three late children. They had been painted from her memory over five centuries ago, kept up through its aging process with immaculate care. Now Plastic casings protected them from dust and possible impurities in the air. She had gone to great extremes to have the room properly lighted and the air cleaned and temperate, trying her very hardest to keep anything from damaging the precious paintings. Her stature was still as stone, eyes barely blinking, thoughts apparently missing from her being, calm and meditative. She had been like this for hours, as it was her daily routine, when she heard a small tinkle. Turning her head she was greeted by her male BullMastiff Achilles.

Without words being said, Chryseis was informed of what was happening at her art museum in town. Images flashed in her mind eye faster than she could read them.

"Slow down Achilles."Â?

"Angry people...signs..loud....shouting...angry people...walking"Â? The images he sent her were ones close to those she had seen before.

"Where's Birseis?"Â? she asked him.

"Doors...guarding."Â?

She nodded to him and stood up. It was going to be another one of those nights again. The picketers had returned, outraged at some other artifact that they believed should be presented in its original country.

"Tiresome."Â? She said wistfully.

Leaping up to her windowsill without missing a beat she jumped from her 4th floor balcony. There was no sound of body hitting ground, in fact no signs of a body anywhere as Chryseis flew away. All that could be seen was the small nightingale in the evening sky.