GODDESSES INC

2

Shee produced a cellphone from the folds of her kaftan and pushed the device across the desk. "A brand. A platform. Do you have followers?"

Mnem glanced at the cellphone. "What kind of followers?"

"Social media followers." Shee tapped the phone with a long oval-shaped nail. "Twitter. InstaPic. Snap chat. Facebook."

"I..." A Charybdis whirlpool churned in Mnem's belly.

"You're a goddess and you don't have a twitter account, let alone a blue checkmark."

"Neither do you," Mnem shot back.

Shee laughed, a beautifully ugly sound devoid of mirth. "I don't need one. I am All."

Mnem felt the roiling waters move upwards. "You asked me here to tell me to get a social media account?"

"No." Shee crossed her arms. "FEM and MAS are merging."

MAS, Masculine Alliance Sodality. The cosmic counterpart.

Shee stretched her arm to the vista beyond, to the landscape of skyscrapers, factories, buildings, and domiciles. "The world is always changing. We change with it."

Don't throw up. "What does that mean?"

Shee lowered her arm, the kaftan's fabric fluttering into perfect drapes around her. "It means, Mnemosyne, that we must clean house. Downsize. Free ourselves from goddesses and gods who are no longer relevant."

"I'm relevant." Mnem squeaked, her voice without relevancy.

"No, you're not." Shee's mouth formed into her famous smile-frown. Pitying. Beneficent. Empathetic. And terrifying. "Darling, you haven't been relevant for a thousand years."

"I'll change." Mnem slid her phone from her metallic goatskin Chanel purse. "I'll create a...a brand. I'll start an account. How difficult can it be to get a blue checkmark?"

Shee sighed. "It's too late."

"What do you mean?" Mnem's divine bones chilled to ice. "Are you firing me?"

"I prefer the term dismissed." Shee crossed one leg over the other. "You're one of many. MAS and I are streamlining. Redundancy is neither expedient nor prudent."

All the air whooshed out of Mnem. Her belly constricted. Her bowels twisted. "What will happen to me?" Mnem's voice cracked. Sounded human. A voice strangled by fear.

Shee graced her with another ghastly pitying smile. "You are now barred from FEM. All your privileges revoked forthwith. Don't look so mortified, Mnem. This is your doing after all. You had choices." Shee's finger tapped the air. "You've always had choices. You chose to do nothing."

Mnem squared her shoulders. "I am the mother of the nine muses." Dear goddess, I sound pathetic.

"That's not enough anymore." Shee's fingers fluttered in the air. "Look at you. Wearing all the latest designer clothing. You keep current with fashion. Have the newest phone. Enjoy an extremely active social and sexual life."

"People love me."

"No darling, you've become arm candy and a good time for a miles-long string of interesting mortal men."

"I—"

"Your sex life is no concern of mine. What I do care about are the goddesses who have an inspirational brand." Shee stood, rounded the desk, and perched on the corner. René Caovilla crystal sandals peeked out between the silk folds.

Mnem swallowed. Shee's proximity was unnerving. "Does that mean I won't be immortal anymore?"

Shee nodded.

Mnem lifted her chin, stared at Shee. "How long do I have left?" To live.

"I'm not sure. Immortality is a gift. Maybe you have fifty years, maybe five." Shee shrugged. "Female energy is a collective. A cyclical force of the universe. As an inactive goddess, you have been taking for a long time and not giving back." Shee rose and the air grew oppressive, as though her sheer might pressed down on Mnem's chest and lungs. Like a fat man on top of her.

The office door glided open.

I've been dismissed. Forever.

Mnem would have cried. One thing stopped her. The thought of giving Shee the satisfaction of seeing a fired goddess leak precious water, proteins, lipids, and electrolytes. Besides, tears swayed mortals, not the divine.

Mnem rose from the chair. Her chin lifted despite the tightness in her throat. "Am I permitted to use the archives?"

"The moment you leave the building you will have no access to FEM."

What if I never leave? The thought, silly as it was, dashed across Mnem's mind like an Olympic runner. Other silly thoughts included throwing a tantrum. And groveling. Both were beneath her. Mnem had too much self-respect. Maybe too much. Maybe if she was more reflective, she would have seen this coming. The truth was, immortality was a gravy train Mnem did not realized she was capable of being thrown from.

Mnem's lips twitched into a wide insincere smile. "I understand. Good-bye. Have a nice day." Mnem was thunderstruck. It felt as though Zeus, her baby daddy, aimed his lightning bolt at her head. Mnem walked out, felt the door swoosh shut behind her.

The elevator ride up had seemed interminable. The ride down or, rather, Mnem's fall down, took only a few heartbeats. Mnem found her misty-eyed self staring at the rosy marble lobby all too soon. Goddesses sauntered about without a care in the world.

I'm fired! This can't be happening. Do they all have platforms? Followers? Do they all deserve their immortality?

"Are you getting off, darling?" asked Phra Naret, Thai goddess of water, good fortune, beauty, and blessings. Her voice was calm water, soothing and fluid.

Mnem blinked, snapped out of her astonished stupor. "Yes, I am."

Phra Naret patted her black hair, pulled tight into a shiny tall topknot. A wide gold-threaded ribbon encircled it. A mini tiara. "I hope today showers you with blessings."

More like the curse of mortality. Mnem smiled, realized she hadn't moved. As though she was afraid to get off the elevator. Mnem was never ever afraid.

Phra Naret smoothed her dress, a modern take on a traditional chut thai, and waited patiently.

Mnem roused herself, forced her leaden foot to move forward. "Going up?"

Phra Naret pressed her palms together. "Always, darling. The world is beautiful and divine."

"Do you have followers?" Mnem asked walking out of the elevator.

"Thousands. Perhaps millions." Phra Naret smiled, all white teeth, warmth, and serenity. She blew a kiss as the door whooshed closed.

"Millions." Mnem grimaced. For a moment. Grimacing was frowned upon at FEM. Very unbecoming. I'm not a goddess anymore. Mnem grimaced harder, her chin wrinkling. It felt good. Freeing. Authentic. Her head hoisted high, Mnem strode through the front door, her needle-thin heels clicking angrily on the shiny marble.

The morning was warm. Fresh. The scent of brewed coffee wafted from the coffeeshop across the street. It was too early for a shot of ice-cold ouzo, so coffee it was. Greek style. A strong brew with one sugar cube in a demitasse cup should do the trick. Mnem needed to think. Think fast and think hard.

The bell over the door jingled as she walked in.

"Mnem!"

Mnem turned to the familiar voice, saw the tear-stained, mascara-smeared face. "You too?"