We’re back! Hope everyone had a great Christmas yadda, yadda, yadda. Have some fiction!
“Welcome everyone. I trust you all, as responsible 16 year-olds, had good, productive weekends. No partying? Plenty of studying? Your blank yet derisory faces I shall take as my confirmation. Since you must, therefore, be very prepared and the year is coming to a close it’s time for you to begin your end of year project. This will be the basis of your final grade for your sophomore year. Now I know that prom is in a few weeks but quite frankly 2000 year-old books are more important. So, ‘what’s the project?’ I hear you ask. Good question, your task is to read The Epic of Gilgamesh and create a modern-day parallel. To explore Mesopotamian teachings and apply their knowledge to today. I’m not expecting you to write a novel although, if you did I’d probably give you an A, what I’m looking for is anything that demonstrates a clear understanding. It could be a performance, an essay, a presentation, a deft display of abstract miming. Anything! I want you to do this assignment in pairs, pairs that I have already decided and no, you can’t ask to switch partners. Ashley, you are to work with-”
Ancient Literature. Age old stories romanticizing the path humanity took to get to here. How sad. I wonder if their writings would be the same if they knew this was where they were heading. I doubt it. I can only imagine their disappointment at how great kings and heroes have given way to the Kardashians. Will humans 2000 years in the future be sitting in Ancient Literature classes studying E! articles about Taylor Swift’s procession of boyfriends? Maybe she’ll be their Henry VIII. At least the Professor seems to share my disdain for the present – and prom, that puts me at ease in this class, takes a slight edge off my cynicism. And with no reason to go to prom, the exception being mass murder (I know what you’re thinking, just wait), I won’t be rushed with this project.
“Hades, you are paired with-”
Let me guess, Dionysus, or someone else who can’t carry their own wei-
Shit. So this is fear. I’m split between the desire to thank the Professor and to see his spine removed from his body. What do I do? I’ve been handed this opportunity on a silver platter but I’m yet to develop the means to take it. Do I allow myself to squander it? No, I must take it. I mu-
“H…… I….. P….”
“”Hi Persephone, I can’t to wait to start this project with you. How should we begin?”” Is that what you wanted to say?
“Good. Meet me at the Starbucks on fifth at eight. See ya then.”
I think that went rather well.
I’ve got just under three hours. Should be enough time to get myself together.
“Hey! Hades? Is that you? Can you bring me a bottle of water?”
It’s as if he doesn’t get enough water spending half the day in the pool.
I hate him.
“Hey, hold up. Got any plans for tonight?”
“I’m meeting with Persephone to start our Ancient Literature project.”
“Ahh nice, she’s cute.”
“She is pleasant, yes.”
“Ask her out.”
“Because you’re a loner and I’m starting to worry that without some happiness you’re gunna shoot up a school or something.”
Shoot up a school? I would never lower myself to such undignified methods.
“What would I even say?”
“When are you leaving?”
“Ok, I’ve got three hours to work with. I think I can do that. You ready?”
“Ready for what?”