The sun sets at 4 o’clock now. This is when my habits started.

The chimes near my front door often sound even in light wind but not this time. Sometimes I animate them with my own eyes, or they are just low-hanging decoration to me.

Maybe four hundred strides from here is all uphill calf exercise.

Not too long ago I revisited my Hittite final take home exam from 2019, that’s the language of an ancient Anatolian people. The first part was on simple laws concerning agriculture.

Ù A.ŠÀ-LAM ka-ru-ú-pát

“He who sowed the field before will reap it.

ta-az a-pa-a-aš da-a-i

He already did as follows.”

This one makes no sense to me. But the second one,

ku-iš

ka-ru-ú

šu-ú-ni-et

ki-iš-ša-an e-eš-šer

ták-ku NUMUN-ni še-er NUMUN-an ku-iš-ki šu-ú-ni-ez-zi

“if somebody sows a seed over the seed of another,

GÚ-SÚ GIŠAPIN-an1 še-er ti-ez-zi ta 2 I.A

you must put his neck on a plow, they are to yoke two

tu-ri-ia-an-zi ke-e-el me-ne-iš-ši-it du-wa-a-an

shots to the ox and direct one’s face there

ke-e-el-la me-ne-iš-ši-it du-wa-a-an

and the other’s face there.

ne-e-ia-an-zi LÚ-eš a-ki ak-kán-zi

ṢÍ-IM-DÌ

GU4.H ̆

Then they must draw a sword and the man and oxen must die.”

This is illustrative. I remember these took me a long time to figure out and a few more times to visualize.

And I barely know what an ox looks like. But a Hittite man, however, probably tanned, and in my head likely handsome and short, with bad teeth. A brow bone so close to his eyes that it creates a permanent scowl.

GU4.H ̆ I.A-ia

The dispensary and liquor store are right next to each other on this block and the road that leads up to it also takes you to a grocery store, a parking lot, and a recycling depot. Classic town. I’ve been so preoccupied that the convenience of this block is always a novelty. At any rate this is the most tedious thing I’ve ever done because my body is slowing down.

The storm god criticizes the bee for its small and weak wings and for being a small and weak creature. What does that even mean? I know the bee is allegorical because nothing was meant in the literal sense before the renaissance or something, I don’t actually remember.

Next time I owe an apology I think I’ll deliver it in the original sense of the word like

KUŠKA.TAB.ANŠE=za ešun nu dIŠTAR** “I was foolish, Ishtar,

13 GAŠAN=YA A-NA mMuršili A-BI=YA Ù-it mNIR.GÁL*-in* ŠEŠ=YA**

and my lady, sent my brother to my father Mursilis in a dream

14 uiyat A-NAmḪattušili=wa MU.KAM.ḪI.A maninkuwanteš saying Hattusilis, the years are short.”

I played a lot of brain puzzle games while completing this one. Just to offset the “mental exertion”.

I see this one man through the window from outside of the grocery store every time I’m around, as it’s about to close. He sometimes flails his arms around inside as if he’s dancing, pupils enlarged, at Shambhala, while the workers mop the floor or something.

If I could paint, I feel like this visual in the window would be a good one full of beige and plum pigments. I’m not particularly proud of how long it takes me to do anything. I’d prefer it if you assumed that I was efficient because I’m actually a morning person. I love the feeling of being awake in time for almost each phase of the day.

Actually, I like it when I have no recollection of my way home.

QA-DU É-TI=wa=mu ARAD-aḫḫut nu

“Serve me along with the house.”

iyanniš kaniššuwar=ma=at ŠA dIŠTAR GAŠAN=YA ēšta “And the house prospered in recognition of my lady Ishtar.”

Nuria Isabel is a writer based in Montreal.