Kronos Got Drunk – Part Four
Short Story “Seems horribly cliché,” I said. “What does?” asked Prometheus. He seemed offended. “The Greek God of time living in the most famous clock tower in the world — even I could’ve thought of...
Tagged: greek
How Proudly She Walks
Short Fiction “You don’t exist,” she said. Prometheus frowned. “Of course I exist! I stand before you, do I not?” “The idea of you stands before me.” The God of forethought rolled his eyes....
Kronos Got Drunk — Part Nine
Serial Fiction They seemed to fuse into a giant ball of fur and feathers; clawing and biting and emitting deafening sounds from their maws. In the chaos, I saw the pocket watch rip from the...
Kronos Got Drunk – Part Eight
Serial Fiction We sat without speaking for a time. The restaurant was mostly empty. The only sounds were the clink-clink of cutlery on plates and straws being slurped. These were occasionally punctuated with loud, indeterminate sounds...
Kronos Got Drunk – Part Six
Serial Story We didn’t go to Prague. It wasn’t for lack of trying. We were standing at the foot of Big Ben and Prometheus grabbed my arm while holding the stopwatch just as before. Instantly, everything...
Kronos Got Drunk – Part Five
Serial Story “Hello, traitor.” The old man slammed the door closed. “Classic dad,” said Prometheus. He winked at me and knocked on the door a second time. “Go away,” came the voice through the door....
I Am No Blank Slate
Poem He thought me a marble statue of the Ancient Greeks, admiring the soft sheet that silhouetted my curved form. I do not argue that I wear drapery elegantly, nor that I feel...
