Potent quotables
The silver glimmer of the moon shone high above me when I finally found the strength to move again. Yet the moment I stood, I felt as though I had no structure at all. As if the very fibers of my being had been shredded and then put together again but in a way that was no longer fit for purpose. I was like a cracked amphora, repaired so that no one could see the fractures, yet so weak that should it ever be filled with wine again, it would crumble.
Kneeling on the spot where I had wept, I snapped the brittle, frostbitten grass between my fingers and felt the tears prick my eyes again as it crumbled to nothing. I was the Goddess of Grain. Of Agriculture. I was the one who sustained the earth’s bounty, but not a single, green blade remained where I had rested my defiled body. This was when I realized my gifts had come from a place of love and gratitude. From peace and harmony. And if these emotions were overwhelmed or lost, there were consequences to pay.
I had spoken more of my soul to this man than I had ever done before. This was love.
It disgusts me now, how I ever cowered to him. How I thought, even after all his deeds, that he was worthy of my respect. But back then, I was still learning my true strength.
She smiled so softly, and her eyes stared so deeply into mine it forced me to wonder when I had last allowed someone to look at me in such a manner.
Asking for help is not a gift of mine. There are men and women, gods and mortals, who do not think twice about seeking aid at the slightest hint of discomfort. But discomfort is the world that I was born into. It is a place of familiarity.
Even this day, this single day, is more than I could have dreamed of.