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What can a goddess, a goddess of Olympus, do when her role as a goddess is not feasible anymore? It is the disjunctive Rhea, a goddess of Olympus, has. Yet, she is a goddess, she knows about religions. She decides to be a spectator of how religions on earth develop and thus to be close to their prophets and messiahs. But her methods are not always suitable. What she encounters is not always beatific. These are her stunning narratives of what takes place inside the dwellings of those religious prophets. Being an immortal, she shares the life of humanity. Being a woman, she has had hundreds of babies. Being a goddess, she knows how to deal with gods.  “The splendid story of the passions of a
lewd goddess of Olympus with religious prophets and messiahs.”
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 Vignette: Moses’ war chariots are arranged in front of hundreds of spears. A line of archers has just sent another volley of arrows toward the city door. I open the door from the inside and walk out. I am dressed as a warrior. A tunic made of leopard skin snugly envelopes my body. And I am armed with a shield and a sword. My emergence is a surprise, as I see there is a lull in the deluge of arrows. Still, a few arrows hit my shield, and one hits me. My leopard skin is reinforced and impervious to these primitive weapons. So, I walk forward. Other arrows hit my shield. I keep walking. Finally, an order and the deluge ends. Moses’ chariot advances. Alone. It stops in front of me. I lower my shield, and Moses is staring at me, while his archer is pointing an arrow at me. I incline my head. “As I promised. I deliver Meroë, the city of my king, to you, my husband,” I say firmly. I walk to the side of the chariot where the archer keeps the arrow pointed at me. I extend my hand and before he can react, I pull his foot. He falls out of the chariot. I jump up. “The city is yours,” I say as I embrace him by the waist. “And I am yours.” The chariot moves and soon we are inside the city. Other chariots and the lancers following us. “The city is empty!” he sputters. “I promised the city. Not its people,” I respond. He grunts. “You can loot.” Whatever is left. I would say not much. My arms hug him intensely. “And you can rape me.” I laugh. |