“We were not Gods, but were of God, the strands of our existence
not yet teased apart by Becoming, our function not yet defined.”
So much for a Saturday evening… the night of the week most folk sit relaxing by the hearth or meet with friends. Me? I was taking dictation from a Goddess…or that was what it felt like as I wrote.
I had done plenty of research, burying myself under a small mountain of respectable tomes to remind me of the details of the great story I was working with as I wrote The Osiriad. The names on the spines… Budge, Spence and Frazer, Iamblichus and Herodotus… suggested that ancient Egypt had something to do with the whole process, as would the printed papyri that littered the table. I had been feeding my imagination on tales of Egypt for years.
It’s not as glamorous as it used to be. Not anymore. Time was we were sought after with our Pentax and Olympus. We stay up all hours , red light cigarette in mouth, blow the chemicals. We got the shots, developed them made the image, iconic.
We’re not needed now, it’s all digital.
@RituBhathal Walking home, unaware that she was being followed. He shadowed her just of sight just out of earshot.
Oblivious to his presence she sauntered on slightly tipsy. As she got her key out he made his move and lunged at her ankles. Oh!Tinker! #OWI
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