mycursedface (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mycursedface) wrote2008-03-17 02:47 pm
mycursedface) wrote2008-03-17 02:47 pm
outside Athens, 480 BC
The Acropolis is burning.
It is night now, and the glow is turning the clouds above red. A nice red, really, glowing hot even from here, and fading into a dull red. The screams had stopped hours ago (all gone now) and now there is nothing but silence.
(burn, burn, burn the scene of the crime)
At least, from where Medusa is. She is sitting on a rock on a hill a little distance away, hugging her knees to her chest. She's been watching for hours, but the smile on her face is still as bright and guileless as the flames.
(burn, burn, burn away the memories)
(burn, burn, burn it down)
It is night now, and the glow is turning the clouds above red. A nice red, really, glowing hot even from here, and fading into a dull red. The screams had stopped hours ago (all gone now) and now there is nothing but silence.
At least, from where Medusa is. She is sitting on a rock on a hill a little distance away, hugging her knees to her chest. She's been watching for hours, but the smile on her face is still as bright and guileless as the flames.
(burn, burn, burn away the memories)