Ficlets

Presence of a Goddess Most High

“Yes, child, she is one of mine,” the disembodied voice said coyly. “And how dare you steal from my servant!”
“Hera?” the oracle said very timidly.
“Yes, darling oracle,” Hera said.
“I’m sorry…I haven’t eaten in days…I’m sorry, Hera, Hera’s oracle…” Agathon said, falling to one knee, head bowed. “I’m so sorry. But I’m starving. I beg all day and get nothing but maybe a few crumbs if I’m lucky. I needed to sell something…and,” Agathon was interupted. His body convulsed and he fell to the ground again in a puddle of the iced wine. The dog came over and licked his face, which sent needle-like pricks to every inch of his skin. But he could not move to brush it away.
“Then you should have prayed to the gods not stolen from the gods! I do not feel pity on you because you are an poor orphan, but because of your ignorance and hubris! You must give to your superiors if you want what they have!” Hera boomed. Agathon tried to talk but a scratching noise came out of his mouth instead. He simply stared.

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