She looked at me. Her lifeless face looked feeble, reminding me of a weeping branch, thrashing in the fall wind.
I asked her: Where is your soul?!
She pointed at a departing ship.
I tried running to the edge of the port waving my arms and yelling, but no one noticed me.
I remember this woman! I remember her smile! I remember…the tenderness when she quietly cupped my face on that warm spring day, then magically pulled a bluish butterfly from behind my ear, gently ushering me to hold it! Was that last year?! Was that 5 years ago?!
I screamed ‘Don’t take away her soul! She’s going to die!!’ But my screams, were lost among the screeching noise of so many seagulls…feasting on her weathered soul..laying bare on the exposed deck.
So I called on Hector with my burning eyes, and my angry fist raised then opened up, and I heard Menelaus’ footsteps behind me. And the three of us, rewrote..the Iliad.