I was a daughter of Zeus, born to gracious Demeter, goddess of the harvest. Raised in fields of flowers and corn under an uncaring sky, I grew to be a fair young maiden of Greece, oblivious to the wars of lust, love, and family that raged high above the clouds and even miles below my bare feet.
I considered myself lucky to know not of the details that comprised these conflicts. I was blissfully oblivious then.
I gambol about my mother's great plains. The breeze whispers over fields of wheat, and the stalks greet me in hushed tones. The fragrance of earth envelopes me, makes me feel as if my mother is right there with me. That is not too far from reality: she was always close by in those days.
Far below:
The moment he saw her, he knew. Her charm intrigued and frightened him. There was a crown of flowers upon her head, but it did not sit softly; long, sharp thorns were nestled into the waves of her golden brown hair. There was ice in her, there was pain. The girl was half goddess, half hell. He wanted her, needed her, and so far, he usually got what he wanted.
VOUS LISEZ
The Dance of Persephone
Roman d'amourInspired by the quote: "She danced into Hell and embraced him with open arms" Vignettes from the beginning of Persephone's reign as Queen of the Underworld. Likely to be edited and changed and reordered as I go.
