(no subject)
Life, as it turned out, was just full to the brim with the unexpected. Not simply a little unexpected, no, but complete and total out of left field nonsense. The island and being a mortal upon it happened to be only one unexpected event of a vast universe of unappreciated surprises.
Take today, for instance, and that apparently even walking wasn't safe from ill fate. Take one erstwhile goddess with light feet traipsing aimlessly down a dirt path singing Chaka Khan (Well, Rufus, actually, but she'd never been much for semantics), and a tree root looping lazily from the ground.
Never once in her long existence had the goddess tripped or so much as missed a step, and as the ground seemed to rise up to meet her, her sole thought was that of confusion. When you've never fallen, have never had any possibility of falling, you don't know to try to catch yourself, and when her chin collided with the footworn pathway, the pain was considerable. It felt like an epiphany.
Blood flooded her mouth from where she'd bitten into her bottom lip, and she marveled a moment at the taste of it, coppery and thick, until the pain from her left ankle superceded everything else. Sprawled across the ground, blood at the corners of her mouth, she stared in horror at her bare foot, as if she could in some way will the reality into something different. There'd been no pop, no crack, she was certain of that, knew what it sounded like, had heard it enough times from the bones of others. Still, she was in so much pain and it was so foreign to her that even after managing to push herself up, she simply sat there, agog.
Take today, for instance, and that apparently even walking wasn't safe from ill fate. Take one erstwhile goddess with light feet traipsing aimlessly down a dirt path singing Chaka Khan (Well, Rufus, actually, but she'd never been much for semantics), and a tree root looping lazily from the ground.
Never once in her long existence had the goddess tripped or so much as missed a step, and as the ground seemed to rise up to meet her, her sole thought was that of confusion. When you've never fallen, have never had any possibility of falling, you don't know to try to catch yourself, and when her chin collided with the footworn pathway, the pain was considerable. It felt like an epiphany.
Blood flooded her mouth from where she'd bitten into her bottom lip, and she marveled a moment at the taste of it, coppery and thick, until the pain from her left ankle superceded everything else. Sprawled across the ground, blood at the corners of her mouth, she stared in horror at her bare foot, as if she could in some way will the reality into something different. There'd been no pop, no crack, she was certain of that, knew what it sounded like, had heard it enough times from the bones of others. Still, she was in so much pain and it was so foreign to her that even after managing to push herself up, she simply sat there, agog.