Bjartur's confrontation.

Bjartur Felinae Krisztiánich, a gallant feline youth, had only lived for about 3 months with his new mistress, when the confrontation of his young life befell him.
It was at the beginning of spring, the frozen veil over Iceland's surface had just begun to evaporate, making way for clear rays of sunlight that licked the icy ground. The flat, the home of frau Eva Krisztiánova, was beautifully lit by the virgin sunrays that danced across its open structure. The members of the household; consisting of the frau herself, her son - Markus Chaika Oskarovich - a tall young man of twenty, with strong features that nevertheless suggested a softness of character, and the two household cats, Bjartur and Blida, had all just risen to meet this wonderful spring day, when the peaceful tranquility was disturbed by an intruder of the most abominable kind. . .

Perhaps, before I describe the unfortunate situation, I ought to introduce the protagonist of the story to my readers. Bjartur Krisztiánich had been born into this world that winter. He had been born into a family of six; his single mother gave birth to four kittens, and at the birthplace resided an older sister to the kittens. One by one, during the following two months, the kittens all left their birthplace, and the embrace of their loving mother, for a new life at future homes. All were adopted, except the elder sister, and Bjartur was the last to leave. In the end Bjartur was taken in by his new mistress, Eva Krisztiánova, and given a place in the household, which already prided of a very hairy feline elitist, named Blida "the persian" Evanova.
Blida did not take easily to the new flatmate, and for the first weeks Bjartur made good friends with the lady of the house, and her young son, but Blida's affections were not granted him easily. In time Blida did take to the reddish ball of energy, as his presence amused her and intrigued her. She took him under her wing, but ensured her authority as the household's elder and wiser cat. Bjartur consented to her terms, and between them they forged inseparable bonds of feline friendship and understanding.

Blida understood where her position in the household lay, and that Bjartur's significance was undeniable. At one point, during their bonding sessions, she remarked to him: "Bjartur Krisztiánich, I realize that you have a role, a mission, that I am unable to fulfill. You, you have come here, among us, I believe, as a protector. Bjartur, I believe, I believe that you are the one." Blida's announcement rattled Bjartur's young brains, he could hardly comprehend that she, his dominating domestic partner, would say that. To him, a rackless youth to which the whole world seemed an endless heap of adventure. But Blida's words remained with him. And on the day of the confrontation, they took on the full desired effect.

So what was it, then, that happened, on that tranquil spring morning, you ask? Who, or what infiltrated the apartment, and flung Bjartur Felinae Krisztiánich into full force, and had him lashing out to the protection of his new but dearly beloved family..
A queen bee. A poor abominable creature in search of location for nesting. As the creature lurked into the home of Eva Krisztiánova, from behind the bright rays of sunlight that decorated the place in streaks, the household was set in a state of utter panic. As soon as the shrieks of the frau and the son, reached Bjartur's ever-waking ears in the frau's bedroom, he knew. He knew the time had come. This day, Blida's prophecy would come true.
As he ran into the living room, where the infiltrator was harassing the petrified family, Blida's exclamation: "You are the one," was ringing in his head. He located the monster, lashed out at it, battled it to death, and ate its corpse ritualistically.
It all happened so fast. In an instant the prophecy had come true, instantaneously with Bjartur's impulse from hearing the awful sounds, it seemed.

In a letter to me, regarding the incident, Bjartur said: I had always expected to find my mission in life, then gather the courage before I could fulfill it. However, what I discovered through this trial, is that our mission in life seems to seek us out. When it arrives, one has simply to be and follow one's impulses. In an instant I have become a household hero. Even your brother, whom, after his shrieks that fateful day, I can not refrain from calling your sister from now on, has not been abashed at expressing his admiration for me, - a mere kitten. I send you my love, and wish you the best in your own trials.
With my respect, Bjartur Felinae Krisztiánich

Recorded by,
..kH

Circumstances have turned me into a total sloth. I aimlessly wonder about, no projects to finish or turn in, no class to attend.. I can live in whichever manner I decide suits me best today.
Our teacher cancelled our class with him today, apparently he has so much work to do that he can not fit us in to his schedule. So, you see what sort of treatment we get here.. we are not respected as proper students, we are foreign beasts.

Well, to elaborate, of course things are not quite as I have just made them sound to be, the school does treat us the best it can.. however, the problem is that there are too few teachers around that can actually speak English. And, to our shame, but a fact nonetheless, we do not speak Slovak. When you spend such a limited time in a new country, and spend most your time with English speakers, your adapting to the new language takes much longer, and, needless to say, we are nowhere near having adapted the Slovak skills required if we were to have our lessons in the local language.

We are taught by PhD graduates, and PhD students of the establishment in question. Their English skills are above the average learned Slovak´s, and they are of the younger generation. On average, the Slovak local above the age of 30 is not used to speaking much English, they speak their local tongue and sometimes even German. The younger people are less afraid of putting to use their acquired English skills, which often are at a rather elementary level though, as I doubt they have much chance to practice, and English media usually is turned Slovak or Czech, but we certainly do heartily appreciate their efforts at communicating to us.

Yes, I am a sloth. I will spend the day reading what I want to read, hanging about the Worldweb, drinking second class coffee, and dreaming about days ahead. Will tomorrow bring a ray of seriousness into this Bohemian´s life? We shall see, we shall see. . .

Lazily,
..kH