Scene: The Observatory atop Mount Diablo
3 Goddesses lay sleeping in the observatory chamber as a whispering wind begins to blow, the din of urban life can be heard in the distance. A Hummingbird flies in and flits about the Goddesses before hovering near Tyche's nose and prodding her awake. As Tyche awakes and sits up the Hummingbird hovers near her ear appearing to whisper. A game board with a menagerie of figurines sits on a table in the middle of the room, a spinning wheel stands to the side of Tyche.
Tyche: Awake Mothers! We have slumbered in our Pantheon atop Mt. Diablo for too long.
3 forgotten Goddesses without devotees to herald us in song.
Fertile fields lay fallow, instead cubes are farmed.
Silenced lust, passion flees this hive of toil left uncharmed.
How may democracy flourish among these young mercenaries devoid of egalitarian ambition.
Paradise so casually corrupted when left to their own volition.
Aphrodite: Daughter Tyche, wheel maid, misunderstood mistress of fortune.
What redress have we for this cause of alarm?
Algorithms seek mates they have no need of charm
Our dais is cartoon.
Athena: Ever forlorn Aphrodite, prosperity's spinster Tyche, heed your station.
What need have divinities of mortal validation?
Even in deepest slumber I hear their voices cry out for freedom and justice.
Our hands may still guide acts without witness.
We remain in dominion over this democratic nation.
Aph: What emotions dwell in cyberspace, envy, greed?
What bumbling matchmaker can launch a 1000?
Yearn for justice or serve avaricious need
Love's arm disbanded.
Ty: Mothers perhaps a better mood we may reflect,
If we engage in more than benign neglect.
A wager between the Goddess' of Justice and Love on a game I, the Goddess of Fortune will select.
At the end some small token the winner will collect.
Pray indulge me mothers how do each of you elect?
At: I'm intrigued by the notion of a contest.
Assuming it's no mere luck's shot, that skill and strategy apply, my attention you arrest.
And let his winner's token be commensurate with the effort afforded this jest.
Aph: In every wager love's the ultimate prize.
As each dry night passes my influence dies.
Chance sew rumors, deceits, hot tender lies.
Broken heart cries.
Ty: Gaze deep into the Valley of Mt. Diablo, choose the one among this silicon menagerie who best displays your divine charter.
The goddesses gather around the game board, Athena and Aphrodite examine the figurines.
Athena: Stern daughter of the voice of a Goddess
Behold an Airman with wings to nest in the house of Owl.
O Duty! Pledged upon the acropolis in our plundered Parthenon.
Who art a staff and chest to bear my Aegis.
Benignant dowel of glad heart with an unerring light to guide us to victory and law,
Even when vain temptation and empty terrors overwawe.
For sport of random gust I cast, the Oracle, Khan into your Odeon.
Athena raises the figurine of an owl and places it on the board before her.
Aph : O Goddesses! Hear these tuneless numbers wrung.
No virgin to make delicious moan, no voice, no lute, no incense sweet, no shrine, no Oracle, no heat.
From the lips of Persephone, the Muse, whispering trembled blossoms in tune with her fickle heart, pinions beat, hear our Swan's tale sung.
Still an unravished bride of a northeastern Tempe.
In all her silken locks with garlands dressed, when old age shall this generation waste will it not remain beauty is truth and truth beauty?
Aphrodite draws out the figurine of a swan and places it before her.
Ty: Mothers! Our plays' no pets' pageant, before we proceed a twist of fate.
On the bird of your own house cast a curse and upon rival the blessing of a divine trait.
Aph: Upon the Muse of the House of Swan I place the curse of the succubus, that she may drain the spirit of those she inspires until shunful depart of company.
To the Owl I bequeath Cupid's Bow, that coupling of souls should aim his destiny.
At: That her passions be directed to paths nobler than the heart diverts I bequeath the Swan, Persephone , my blessing of healing handiwork.
Upon my own honorable Brown Owl, I place the Curse of Cassandra, that he may use the gift of foresight to earn coin, but those nearest shall leave his advice unheeded, blind to the sagacious spark.
Ty: And Now the rules of our game, a tally of deeds heroic to your divine order, but with each Goddess guiding the others Avatar!
Tyche switches the figurines before Athena and Aphrodite.
A lighthearted contest, seasonal sorority, no abominable war, chips of Olympian will collected in a jar.
An Epic battle of wits twixt the paragon of justice and high priestess of soft power for all to witness.
Brokered by the Highness of the Harvest in fairness.
Who makes a better servant and deity, can he of just disposition serve the Goddess of libido and emotion?
What strategy mother law-giver have you in your arsenal to turn youth, beauty, lust, musical whims to some civil aim?
Shall we see demure Athena conspire to intercourse without erotic shame?
Seasonally we'll spin the wheel of fortune to shape their destiny.
Time and Tempest will test their fidelity.
Lest the the Gods among us grow restless, let us begin with a vigorous spin our zestful pageantry.
Tyche spins the wheel of fortune to land on a Ram's Head
Ty: A Bacchanalia!
End Scene
By Azweem R Khan All rights reserved