Drinking Spirits With the Goddess of Chaos
500 Words or Less Challenge — №1
When I met the Goddess of Chaos in the hills of Greece, I did not expect her to welcome me with bottles of spirits.
Literal spirits.
She — nameless, beautiful goddess that she was — winked at me. “Don’t worry. They came willingly. Now they’ll be our sustenance.”
I sank onto my knees and took the cup she offered. The liquid was clear, like water, but — as I peered closer — there were swirls of rainbow shades there. Like a kaleidoscope.
I hesitated, and she noted my indecision.
“Drink up,” she said. “Or are you afraid?”
“What will they do to me? Possess me?”
“They are neutral spirits. They should do you no harm.”
As if to show me the nature of their harmlessness, she tipped back a cup of her own. I marveled at the way she could hold her liquor — even though, granted, this alcohol was laced with the spirits of the dearly departed.
Satisfied, she lifted her head back up and smiled at me in the way of cats that have just had a good lapping of milk into their bellies. “Please,” she said. “Drink.”
I finally did as I was told.
