Tag: myth

Neptune

827934

The psychiatrist arrives just in time.
On the rocks, the Sea God is arguing with himself, shaking his trident, raising waves higher and higher.
“Neptune fighting Poseidon again, Sam?” he asks, climbing into the rowboat.
“Yep,” I say, lighting my pipe and pulling the rope from the mooring post. “Poor god’s mind has cracked. His delusions are getting worse.”
The doctor pats my shoulder. “Go!”
I row out into the swells.
Fifty yards out, he puts a needle into my shoulder.
“Just relax” he says, the storm becoming calm.
And, as my eyelids grow heavier, the massive sea god vanishes.

The Candles

752287

When Bobby turned five, he wanted his cake decorated like that “Harry Potter” series of books he’d seen, but was too young to read or watch the movies.
“No,” his mother said.
(When you’re five, you don’t take no for an answer.)
So, his mother made a cake with a demon made out of chocolate cookies inside an icing pentagram, a candle at each star point.
At the party, all of Bobby’s friends sang, and then he blew out the candles.
“What did you wish for?” his mother asked.
The demon on the cake opened its eyes.
“That,” grinned Bobby.

On the eighth day…

860130

On the seventh day, God rested.
But on the eighth day, the angels came to God’s office and found the door locked.
There were strange sounds coming from behind the door.
Nothing the angels immediately recognized.
Maybe heavy breathing, or a wet finger stroked along the lip of a wineglass.
They knocked a few times, but the door didn’t open.
And the sounds became louder and stranger.
Some of the angels wanted to break the door down, but in the end, they just walked away.
On the ninth day, there was no door.
The angels walked in circles and screamed.

Vagrant

722817

Of all of Zeus’ guises, he enjoyed taking the form of a vagrant the most.
There was something strange about having a body, but still being invisible to everyone around him.
Nobody sees what they don’t want to see.
People would pass him by, only noticing him if he were in their way, blocking their progress through their pointless mortal lives.
“Get out of my way, you bum!” growled a merchant. “Can’t you see I’m busy shopping for my wife?”
Leda, isn’t it? thought Zeus.
He smiled a rakish smile and took the form of a swan.
A well-endowed swan.

Acronym

748729

You’ve heard of Zeus and Apollo, but have you heard of Acronym?
No?
He’s not the best-known of the Olympian gods, but where the others just putter about in the Old Gods Rest Home, Acronym is still active and involved in the affairs of man.
He whispers in the ears of the clever and the cunning, helping them find simple words into which to pack the cumbersome phrases that describe their political and social movements.
For good or evil, truth or lies – he is at their side, serving man’s desire for simplicity and catchiness.
Acronym laughs and winks, whispering more.

Mother Nature

800992

It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature, but it’s much easier since she slipped on a riverbank and hit her head on a rock.
With a bandage on her forehead and a smile on her face, she nods with contentment from her hospital bed.
There’s no need to bring her new flowers every day. The flowers I brought her the first day are still fresh today, so all you need to do is take them away while she’s asleep and bring them in when she wakes up.
“Look what I have! Flowers!”
She smiles peacefully and looks out the window.

Fooling Osiris

606736

Rameses knew he was a royal dick. His heart was heavy with guilt. So, he constructed a fake from red feathers.
“That way I pass Osiris’ Test of Balances and go into Paradise,” he said.
On the day of their master’s death, his assistants did as he wished. They tore out his heart, put it in a jar, and carefully implanted the feather construct.
Then, they were put to death and buried with him.
Osiris looked at the feather-heart.
“Light, isn’t it?” said Ramses.
“Yes,” he said. “Pretty.”
Then, he took out a jar. “But this one says you’re fucked.”

The Day Ends

605019

Valentine’s Day comes once a year, and then it’s gone.
The flowers are dead, the chocolates are eaten, the champagne bottle is out in the recycling bin with the rest of the glass, and the card is buried behind the past few day’s stack of bills.
Still, it’s not as grisly a scene as when St. Patrick’s Day is over.
Half-empty kegs, beer-vomit and piss in the hallway, plastic cups on the lawn…
And then there’s the matter of the dead leprechaun.
I followed the rainbow, found his gold, stuck the little corpse in the pot, and buried it again.

The Brass Medusa

597182

I love statues.
But I always wonder about how they’re posed.
Usually, they’re just standing there, looking pompous or proud.
Or they’re on a horse. A leg or two up.
Sometimes, I envision the ancient Medusa, slithering around the early American colonies, staring at famous Founding Fathers and her gaze transforming them into brass.
Then I realize that they’d have their hands up, faces frozen in fright.
If I ever get famous to the point of earning a statue in my honor, that’s how I want to be depicted: like something horrible and scary turned me to brass or stone.

Bigfoot

639157

Deep in the woods, Bigfoot sits on a rock and stares at his humongous feet.
Exhausted from the constant chase by photographers and scientists, he pondered the meaning of life.
“Pedicure,” he growls.
A branch snaps.
Bigfoot crawls under a fallen tree trunk.
The leaves rustle, and then a deer approaches.
Bigfoot sighs. Is he paranoid? Is everything a potential threat now?
“Zoloft,” he grumbles.
He shakes dandruff from his fur, ponders using a sharp rock to shave it off, join a circus as a giant, or play basketball.
Do they make shoes his size?
Another branch snaps.
He hides.