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Today’s Note from a Mythical Woman comes from Agaue and is sent in by Rhiannon Easterbrook.  Rhiannon is a classicist by training.

 

Agaue

We all change ourselves by living but some changes are greater than others. I changed the day I killed my son.

I’d been up on the mountain, so they say, for a few days.  I was already not Agaue: mother, princess, lady. It took a death – I cannot say murder – to make me Never Agaue. The shock was like no other to see myself and my future and the futures of those around me. My understanding came into focus beside my Daddy-king and under the light of Theban lamps. Our mouths were red: his with lipstick and mine with blood.

I regret my actions. I should not have been unsisterly and I should not have spread that gossip against poor Semele.

But if, even for a moment, you are able to escape your quarters, to feel the breeze around your legs, the grass under your feet and that strength which seems god-given rise up through your muscles and your tendons and surges with your endless appetite, then do it. Live. Change yourself.

 

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