This post is in honor of Meg McNulty (@charitygirlblog), Classicist and secret goddess, who shares my love of mythology.
I always thought there might be another side of the Danaë myth. Here’s my version.
DAY 11: GREED
Every morning, sun reflected off the sill of her bronze tower, warming her face. Today, a shower of gold flakes floated down and manifested into a man’s shape.
His voice was like thunder, yet his hands were gentle, countless gold flakes brushing her skin.
Before long, Danaë was with child. She gathered handfuls of gold flakes and scattered her hair, greedily rubbing them across her belly.
One day, he looked in her eyes and saw only the reflection of the gold.
As he fled, the gold flakes melted in the sun like snow. Her despairing cries followed him to Olympus.
Word Count: 100
Art by Brad Kunkle, “Two Suns,” Oil and Gold leaf on canvas – All rights reserved.
This Blogflash 2012 entry proves not all success is positive.
DAY 10: SUCCESS
“Hair black as coal, skin white as snow, beauty unceasing, true heart revealing.”
Elidia chanted the prophecy; it left a galling taste in her mouth, like the arsenic creams used to whiten her skin. Whiter, whitest, still the furrows in her face deepened.
She’d been the beauty, married the King. But Time, inexorable, curved creases round her mouth.
She pricked her finger with a gold needle and trailed it across her Mirror, tying the enchantment.
Within the reflection, Snow White’s ruby mouth opened in a silent scream.
Elidia reached for her face cream, the taste of success on her lips.
Some of these #Blogflash2012 themes I really love. Day 9 is Journey, which is a theme often seen in Yearning for Wonderland: the leaving of the familiar for the foreign and the potentially wondrous. I loved the image I chose for this as well.
DAY 9: JOURNEY
All her life she’d been told to turn away from the glowing star. It burned with distant fire over the next shore. Her heart throbbed with its pulse.
She’d broken her tribe’s law, stolen the smallest longship and dragged it to the edge of Long Waste, ice water slapping at her feet. Her golden hair flapped like a banner in the frozen fingers of the wind.
She unclasped the heavy gold armband and left it on the shattered sands, in payment for her theft.
One sharp push, the boat scraping the shore, and she was at last on her journey.
Word Count: 100
Art by Misstake1989 on Deviant Art. All rights reserved.