• Writing

    The Golden Touch

            How was I supposed to know the Greek Gods are real? I wasn’t exactly taught that in school, but nonetheless I get lost in the woods and wind up in a God’s vineyard. While I was marching through the vineyard trying to find my way to the nearest road, two women made of vines escort, or rather drag, me to the main villa. I’m thrown down onto marble tile in front of a lounge chair with a large man, a woman and man draped on top of him. His purple smoking jacket showing basically all of his chest and stomach, though his grandiose beard actually blocking…