Flash: Storm Front

Photo from Unsplash

They called him “god”, an eternity ago. One of his many eternities. Each crashing against him, waves against stone. An immortal mutation born before such concepts even existed.

But immortality has limits, requirements. A planet to live on, air to breathe, water to drink.

Earth and him knew each other well at this point, and he could feel the changes building in his long-time companion, tipping like an avalanche, snowballing like an ice age. If the eight billion people of the world did not get their act together, he will don the mantle of a deity once again.

Today, his annoyance led him back to the sea with a purpose. He’ll remind the nations what the oceans can do when enough heat is dumped in them. He blew his beautiful water planet a kiss. The caress swirling out to join a tropical depression.

(words 143, first published 9/17/2023)

Flash: Athena’s Horse Phase

Photo from Unsplash

“Hey Uncle, how are things?” Hermes asked as he landed on the pebbled beach.

From shore to where the sea disappeared over the edge of the world, flames danced red waiting for the Helios chariot to finish the day’s journey. Poseidon emerged from the shallow waves that had been lapping at his ankles. “Better than some, worse than others. What do you want little trickster?”

“Me, nothing.” He smirked, producing the perfect dimple in his clean-shaven face. “Well, lots of things, you know how *greedy* I am. But that’s not here or there, because Big Daddy sent me.”

Leaning against his trident, Poseidon rolled his eyes. “And what does that storm-god wannabe want now?”

“Just a horse for a few days.” The messenger waved to where the equines played in the incoming tide. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“A horse? Is he throwing a party for the Norse again?”

Hermes snorted, remembering the prank he and his father arranged for his opposite to the north. “Nah. Just wants one for Athena. He dotes on her.”

Poseidon’s thick gray eyebrows crashed together in confusion. “Athena?”

“Oh, right.” After sitting on a rock, Hermes shared how Poseidon’s brother had a killer headache, Hephaestus took an axe to Zeus’ head, and Athena emerged fully formed and in armor. He also relayed, being a solo parent, Zeus had actually stepped up and been taking care of the new goddess. “The Oracle says Athena is going to be entering her horse phase soon and he want to be prepared.”

“She is a goddess, if she is going through an animal phase, she can just transform.”

Hermes shook his head. “She hasn’t got a handle on everything yet, though she is as sharp as a sword and will get it all under control soon. Which is good, because I don’t think Zeus can handle the responsibility much longer.”

“Is she hot?”

“No! Well, yes, but NO.” Hermes facepalmed. “Dude, the girl isn’t even a week old. Yes, she is an adult, and a goddess, but Little Owling is still young.”

“That the best time.”

“Ew, ick. No, no,” The trickster god held up a finger, wagging it firmly. “No, it isn’t.”

“And could you stop me?”

“I won’t need to. Girl has a spear larger than your trident and she will shove it where Helios never shines if you make moves on her.” Hermes dropped his stern tone and switched to begging. “Just a horse for a few days. All children go through a horse phase.” Seeing his uncle getting a contemplating look, Hermes continued. “And don’t shift into one to get her to ride you. Again, spear in unfun places. Let her have this time before the dogs that is our family are released. Just a simple safe horse.”

Poseidon’s lip curled. “My horses are not toys or safe.”

“Athena is a full-grown woman and we up in Olympus who have been dealing with her these past four days are all pretty positive she is going to be a goddess of war, if not THE war god. Yeah, that spear thing … Ares hit on her her first day. He held his own, barely.” Hermes laughed. “She doesn’t need toys or safety, but she will need a horse to ride for a few days. I know, you guys had the suckest of childhoods after Chronos swallowed you. Break your trauma a bit Uncle. Help the next generation be healthier. Her childhood isn’t going to be longer than a fortnight before she becomes whatever it is that she is going to be. Let her have this.”

(words 598 – first published 8/20/2023)

Flash: Long Summer

From Facebook – Hades and Persephone by DonLagarto

(https://www.deviantart.com/donlagarto/art/Hades-and-Persephone-303898804)

A friend reposted this picture on Facebook (from yet another person) and I wrote the following flash in her comments as a response, because Persephone’s face is just so … so.

“You okay, doll,” Hades asked, a concerned expression taking over his face. The flower goddess responds, “Just finished upstairs, it’s been a long, hot summer. Mortals and their climate change. Just hold me a while and let me sleep.”

(words 39, first published 10/4/2023)

Book Review: Circe

Amazon Cover

Circe by Madeline Miller

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

In the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child — not powerful, like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power — the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, the murderous Medea, and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from, or the mortals she has come to love.

With unforgettably vivid characters, mesmerizing language, and page-turning suspense, Circe is a triumph of storytelling, an intoxicating epic of family rivalry, palace intrigue, love and loss, as well as a celebration of indomitable female strength in a man’s world.

 

MY REVIEW

Read for Book Club

A coming-of-age story, for someone that takes a thousand years to grow up. While gods might reach adulthood within a few days of being born, they are far from mature. Circe, daughter of Titan and a nymph, is no exception to the rule.

It takes her so looooong to get any agency. That is part coming-of-age, getting and developing agency. And when your family are careless gods who have no bounds, and the child-adult lives in a world where the whim of gods takes agency away from all, cultivating agency can be as helpless as planting seed during hurricane season.

More literary than genre, the book focuses on Circe’s emotional development and back-slides. Lots of mythology is covered from the nature gods to the age of heroes. Beautiful language throughout.

I like to see agency in action, a lot. This story is about developing agency, not using it, so not really my cup of tea. On the other hand, book clubs are great because they make you try new things.

Flash: Bragi

“Bragi” by Carl Wahlbom (1810-1858), Public Domain

There are those who claim the long-bearded one was just a ninth century midgard man named Bragi Boddason who traveled from hall to hall, plying gay tunes and romantic verse for an evenings meal. I say Nay, for I was blessed to hear the tales spun from the bardic god.

Twas only chance his and my paths crossed one night in a northern meadhall. He honored me with first tale after the king had waved us forward. And so I, with my merger skill, did share of news from my travels and twisted a tale about the Pennsic Wars.

Then he, Odinson and spawn of the giantess Gunnlod, did touch his hand to golden dwarven harp. Rune-shaped words fell from tattooed tongue and mesmerized with tale and song. Poetry is too mild a word for what I heard. Epic epeitath fell fire for armshiver. Warrior wept from sodden woesounds. Larksong and buoyant bells flashed forward for feastfamily festivity.

And I, not a sound could make.

My ears still rung with the runewords and yet my mind can not comprehend. Some mornings I wake hearing the harpstring, tears flowing for I will not hear it again.

Blessed are you who haven’t experienced this glory, and I fully pity you its lack.

But know you, the first thing you will hear in Valhalla’s hall after being let down by the Valkyrie maid will be Bragi’s harp for he is the Skald of Asgard. While he, for a time, did walk the earth in the guise of a midgard man, he is god born from a honeymead night.

(Words 265, first published 10/20/2019)