Diary of a Mistress, Day 4,689

it isn’t as if i am ignorant of reality. not as if i do not know how ‘this’ goes. first, there is the establishment of ‘the problem’ — the reason why it’s hopeless, utterly, and even though the legal leash is still there, it’s ok. we can pretend it isn’t. yeah. right. momma always said i was cynical, but seems to me the leash is a comfort whenever i see a teacup yorkie straining from across the street after a german shepard lounging, tongue lolling out with laughter, content to let the yappy have his moment for knowing full well […]

Lost Pages, the Diary of Hera

there’s a reason no one ever talks about how we met. so gauche to speak of the trysting of gods. some suitable telling of cyclic means, conveniently amnesiac for the before of the before of the before. it started when we said it did, of course. would you raise the ire of a god to question it? i thought not. so.