Medusa’s Sisters

Published April 16, 2012 by rlmcdermott

It came

as a

surprise;

she looked

at her

sister’s hands,

weathered,

mishapen,

and realized–

they had

grown old.

 

These two

had seen

the worst

of it–voices

in the darkness,

murderous intentions,

and a shield

made of

snakeskin.

 

How it

sparkled

when he

held it up

the day

they lost

her;   there

had been

no blood,

just the

sound of

wings opening,

and the dark

cave suddenly

filling with light.

 

They spent

their lives

on that island

trying their

best to

get off, but

something

always

defeated

them–

it was not

their fault.

 

Still they

watched

the horizon–

hoping.

Sometimes

a great

white horse

would cross

the sky,

the sound

of its wings

would bring

them to

the shore,

and they

would stand

breathless

holding each

other’s hands.

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