Psyche parts her lips and draws a coin from between her teeth. She drops the coin into Charon’s left
palm. Fiery eyes burn into her soul from
beneath a soiled cloak. “You may enter,”
he says, his voice grating her nerves.
She teeters on the edge of the dock, the River Styx lapping against her
hems. Venus’ box for Prosperina tucked safe
under arm, she leaps into the boat. Charon’s
pole splashes down. She’s off.
Very visual short, Millie! :-) That whole River Styx stuff is frightening. I prefer a more modern myth for the end of life... :-) Almost there--5 to go!
ReplyDeleteYup, with a little WeWriWa mixed in too : ). Can't believe I will have had a post a day in April!!! Woohoo!
Delete