So, I’m reading Greek Myths in literature class which I love and we read Narcissus and Echo yesterday. The story was being all poetic and sad about Echo saying:
“In the solitude of mountain cliffs and caves and rocky places, and in the loneliest depths of the forest, Echo hid her grief, and when the winds blew through the dark branches of the trees at night, moaning and sighing, they could hear far below them the voice of Echo repeating their lamentations. For her, long nights followed hopeless days, and nights and days only told her that her love was all in vain. Then came a night when the winds no longer saw the figure of the nymph, white and frail as a broken flower, crouching close to the rocks they passed over. Grief had slain the body of Echo. Only her voice was left to repeat their mocking laughter, their wistful sighs — only her voice reminded.”
Then it has to go and make me laugh by saying:
“Meanwhile, Narcissus, slayer of happiness, went on his way . . .”