Was This Really My Life?
I’d had a glimpse of what my life could have been had I not been the Athena. I’d spent so long living for others that somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten to live for myself, and I regretted the life I did not live.
I’d had a glimpse of what my life could have been had I not been the Athena. I’d spent so long living for others that somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten to live for myself, and I regretted the life I did not live.
I don’t tell him about how the entire time we cleaned the kitchen it kept changing to some cold dedicated prison. I don’t mention the woman I saw staring back at me as I turned the kitchen lights out. She wore the same red dress, had the same long flowing dark hair, and the same gold eyes and matching jewelry. I don’t tell him about the smile she wore as she pointed to me.
With Clio, I can never be sure. It would just be like my unpredictable wife to buy some fish and put them in the bathtub without telling me. She seems determined to turn our floor into a menagerie.
“Oh, I have something for you,” he says, letting me go. Eros reaches into a bag beside him, pulling out a small golden baby blanket.