I’m super excited. There’s a big tee shirt sale at Tee Public where all the shirts are $14 right now.
Now I just have to scrape up the cash to indulge my tee shirt fancy. There’s so much fandom awesome.
I have strange and extravagant dreams.
I let myself imagine the kinds of things that other people feel.
I wrap myself in the somewhat-safety of being someone else. It’s an old game I used to play.
I can see them looking at me, wondering. “Is Project Athena going off the rails like the McKabes and the Quin-Jongs?”
It almost hurts, to think that they doubt me so. I have been nothing but loyal.
I am loyal.
I was made in the Labs of Olympus, spliced from the Zeus gene-mod. I was the pride and joy, one of the Original Twelve phenotypes.
From our DNA is the rest of the Olympus Catalogue made. They might use my eyes and put them on a different face. Everything is mixed and matched and guaranteed to be a viable offspring, even when paired with lower quality DNA.
One Athena in every generation is Chosen, just as there is one Ares, one Hera, one Apollo, etc, etc. We live in the Lab so our gene-children can live free with their parents.
We have perfect genes, expressing all required characteristics of our class.
I remember when I was separated from the rest of my age group. I cried.
That was the first time I realized I was different. In front of an assembly full of people.
I remember that I was put in a group with other Athena-candidates. We wore tunic dresses and had classes together.
One by one, our class was whittled down to me and another girl. I remember that she had my face. My voice. It was like fighting myself.
And then there was just me. And I was standing in front of the Dagger Throne. And there were cameras everywhere and the whole world was watching my Ascension.
I never … Read the rest ““Project Athena””
My uncle and my dad have shared the same lawnmower for 20 years. A week ago, my uncle finally went out and bought a new mower — a Cadet Cub riding lawn mower, or tractor if you prefer. The one he chose is bright yellow with the black stripe, it looks like something you might ride in a race.
I tried it out and it was pretty easy to use, even in our mess of a yard. This was the first cutting of the year, which meant the grass was tall and juicy. There were plenty of hidden sticks and mole hills to grind up against the blade when you least expect it. Still, that mower cut through the grass super easily, and it was fun to drive.
For speed control: Under the steering wheel is a little shifter that lets you take it from tortoise all the way up to hare.
For braking: Your left foot controls the break.
For going: Your right foot controls the accelerator.
For reversing: Your right foot controls the reverse pedal. You cannot back up without lifting the blade first.
The blade controls are next to the seat, in easy reach of your right hand. Though once you’ve got the blade down and you’re ready to mow, you shouldn’t have to do a whole lot of shifting or whatever. Basically everything is controlled with your feet and all you have to do is drive.
I had fun driving the mower and I might not complain about having to mow the lawn next weekend.
This house is fucking freezing.
I have this small heater that’s supposed to make things livable and it does a half-assed job. It’s very disappointing.
I spend most of my time wearing thermal underwear and sweatsuits. I sleep under a layer of blankets.
It’s because the cold is a hungry beast. It tries to climb into a person’s veins.
I sometimes feel as though Eternal Winter has cast a spell on me.
In the same way that the Winter Queen cursed our country, I have to wonder if I’ve been more personally cursed. To always have cold hands and a standoffish personality. To be so entirely outside of every group I stand in.
And my curse began in this house. Where I spent my childhood and most of my adolescence. That I have returned to as an adult. Mostly because I have nowhere else to go.
That’s the sad thing about burned bridges. They tended to add up.
Now here I am. Home again, home again.
Making the best of a bad situation feels like the best thing I could do. So I’ll hold myself together until this is all over.
I huddle around the propane heater in the main living room and listen to the conversation swirl around me. Five people in one space could make a fair bit of noise. I made myself one of them and lived amongst them, waiting for word to come.
It’s almost a surprise when the blue stamped letter comes. I had nearly given into despair. (What if they’ve forgotten me? What if this life becomes my real life for the next ten years?)
The enthusiasm at receiving orders — it made me ashamed of myself. Just for a little bit. But mostly I felt as if I’d found something I’d spent years … Read the rest “The cold is a hungry beast. [NSFW]”
💗 Thank you for visiting. 💗