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PersephoneAuthors note: I wrote this for my English Class. Its kinda bleeh, please disregard any spelling or grammar mistakes. Persephone, being a Greek myth, belongs to really no one and I have full right to use all characters, but they obviously do not belong to me. The plot doesn't either but this spin on it does. Please respect copyright ect.
She sat and stared into the blackness. It was winter once again.
She sat in her room and thought of her mother, Demeter. She thought of the flowers, the sun, the fresh air... She thought of life up on the earth's surface.
Persephone sighed. She didn't know how she felt down here. She loved Hades... She had to love Hades. Or at least she had to try.
Persephone closed her eyes and thought back to 10 years ago today, her first time to the underworld.
It was a Sunday afternoon. The sun was out, and the sky way blue. Persephone was out playing in the fields of flowers her mother had made for her when it was made official that she was the goddess o
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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