Personification: Reference to abstractions or inanimate objects as though they had human qualities or abilities. The English term for prosopopeia (pro-so-po-pe’-i-a) or ethopoeia (e-tho-po’-ia): the description and portrayal of a character (natural propensities, manners and affections, etc.).

The wind cried Larry. My name wasn’t Larry. Maybe the wind confused me with somebody named Larry. I don’t know. I would be thinking about this anomaly for the next three days, confident I would figure it out. Then it dawned on me one day later! When I was around 12 my father bought me a turtle so I would learn “responsibility.” I named the turtle Larry, after my favorite Stooge in the Three Stooges, that I watched every day after school. Larry was the deepest thinker, reserving his twisting of Curley’s nose for the direst of circumstances, or hitting Curly on the head with a two-by-four without seeking Moe’s approval, confidently whacking Curly around until Moe took over. I had Larry for about a year, and he died, like pet turtles do—some sort of bacterial infection from dirty water in Larry’s Turtle Island Turtle Tank.

So, the wind crying Larry was definitely directed at me. I had heard voices before, like the squeaking hinges on the bathroom door that suggested I kill my sister. Or the refrigerator that would hum Christmas carols at night, whenever everybody else was asleep.

Then, a thought smiled on my brain! I could keep a notebook of my paranormal experiences and publish it as a book. The night suddenly opened up it’s arms and embraced me with its quiet. I fell asleep. I dreamed I was the fastest turtle in the world. Top speed 85. My name was Larry.

I was roaring down the NYS Thruway on my way to Albany to pick up my Champion Crown. My little goggles were fogging up. It was raining. A tractor trailer truck cut me off and I started to spin out of control, and I hit the guardrail sideways, making a crunching sound as I bounced onto the pavement, dead.

I woke up screaming, fell out of bed, and hit my head hard on the floor. It was bleeding. As I was slowly losing consciousness, I heard the wind cry Larry, and I knew what it meant. I survived the concussion, but I still have been unable to come out of my shell.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99. Also available on Kindle for $5.99.

Comments are closed.