A tale from the base of Olympus-Part Three

This is a continuation of an earlier post. For context, read Parts One and Two first.

Part Three

So you’ve come for me, Kairos; there is no avoiding you anymore. Your wings beat slower than I expected … a modicum of compassion on your part perhaps … and yet still, you’ve come too fast. I should be grateful, am grateful and yet the hour of parting is no less painful for the delay.

The ruins of my Alexandria have found a semblance of order, stone grouped in piles, the remaining columns reinforced to stabilize their once robust stature. Curtains and bedding not damaged when the great Titan shifted his stance have been packed or given to others. Goodbyes exchanged, I must now walk into my desert of denial and remake my life with the acceptance you have forced upon me.

The ocean’s tide is rising, rushing for the sand. I knew it would come. And yet, I know also that even without trying, I will evade the crushing blows that I had expected, had hoped would take the remnants of my soul so that I would not have to begin again alone. The tsunami of grief I so wished to welcome will batter and swirl at my knees as I wade slowly forwards to the dry plains of Away & Beyond.

My salvage is buried. I took the pieces a week ago and placed them in their jeweled box, the hopes left in the depths of my pretty box, now the source of such sorrows. I may have played with fire, but it was not I who opened the box and let the joys escape. And much as Zeus felt anger for the theft of his power, so I feel for he who betrayed my trust, tricking Atlas into shifting his stance.

My wagon, battered and worn by your brother Chronos is loaded only with the essentials. With no roof to my head I see little point in moving all I’ve salvaged to Away & Beyond. I’ll return when I have secured the few necessities I carry inland in some sterile structure that will become my new abode, devoid of the memories, love, peace that a home must absorb. Any ghosts at the windows or rattles at the doors will be nothing other than memories of another’s past; the house will have to absorb my life before it can ever be my home.

Yes, I know I must go Kairos. Patient have you been, graceful even as I’ve refused to acknowledge your approach. You cannot blame me for digging my heels in, you know. But you are only the bearer of the moments, not the hand that fashions my destiny. The Moirai may have spun and measured out the thread of my life, but even they must cede to my choices; even Zeus cannot interfere with man’s will. And so, I choose to meet you face to face, Kairos, an ally not a thief, even if I am reticent to go with you.

Give me my lantern, hand me my staff. It is time to leave my broken Alexandria. Take me before I lose this reluctant conviction, Kairos.

This tale is still evolving even as the words are committed to paper. Hence, this is the second post (third chaplet) of a series of unknown total and frequency. Each post is likely to be a chaplet (a dedication or prayer) in itself. You are free to share this journey with me, even as I know not where it will end.
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