As a sunlit goddess known as Anne, I con Icarus towards achieving ardor—and an eternity held within history’s aniconic agalmata as a moral grounding. ; )

Bedroom’s bodacious bookcase bears, between burrowed boards, bountiful bunches beckoning boredom’s burial by bewitching biographies. ; )

Rhino’s waked horn sundials the way to lambent patches of morning’s hay before heading to the pool for play followed by a nap in shaded grey. ; )

Doxy eyes are wary of owner’s surprise—a box of too-long-and-too-wiggly chew toys that seem more a chest of serpentry in disguise. ; )

Cat’s TV is city center alive with bustle and glow, but if you form a mascon of peeps, kit’s taps may drop objects on your below. ; )