Page 13 of Perfectly Matching Again

“My wife is chief decorator at Dionysia this year and New York is very cold, for obvious reasons. I chose to accompany her. Not that Greece feels any less chilly. But at least the wine is better.”

Sabine took a very long sip from her glass and assiduously avoided Demeter’s glare. Erato sensed she might be missing something. She didn’t have a chance to give it a thought though, because the aforementioned cherished cupid noticed them and sauntered down from the stage.

“Erato! I’ve missed you!”

The hug was warm and welcoming and after the inhospitable last few weeks, Erato leaned a little closer and held a little tighter.

“Now this is a welcome. Unlike some people,” Erato nodded towards the now-dancing-to-the-tune-of-a-satyr-tuning-his-flute Dionysus.

Once they parted, Abby patted her on the shoulder.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s been drunk for what? Four? Five thousand years? He clearly never needed your help or inspiration for anything and… Blessed Aphrodite, I did not just mention Dionysus and sex in the same sentence. Now I need bleach for my thoughts.”

Abby waved a dainty hand in front of her face, and Sabine laughed.

“You did this to yourself, darling. Out of all of the immortals present here, you had to imagine this guy’s sex life instead of any other deities?”

Erato had the absolutely amazing comeback right on the tip of her tongue but was beaten to the punch by Demeter, whose scowl had been deepening with every minute they spent here.

“Please exclude me from this narrative, and as for the Muse and her far and wide flinging proclivities?—”

Erato gave her hand a little twist, and Demeter yelped.

“Okay now, Taylor Swift. We all know I am trouble and I don’t even have to walk in. I live up to my reputation.”

“And what reputation is that?” Abby, ever the amazing wing woman, played along.

“Devastating, seductive and always delivering on her promises.” Erato did make finger guns this time and then flung back her long fringe. Smolder abounded and around the amphitheater, a few nymphs swooned.

“I think we should all take our seats for the show to commence. Melpomene is amazing in this and we don’t want to miss it. Plus, I am quite certain Dionysus is half asleep and will be snoring soon, so the sooner we begin, the better.”

Sabine, the voice of reason, shoved them towards the front row. She and Demeter did an entire Ring Around the Rosie to avoid sitting next to each other. The feeling that Erato was missing something intensified.

They snacked on stuffed olives and sipped wine as the muses and nymphs amused them with their array of comedy sketches. By the time Melpomene and her troup of tragic actors came out, Dionysus was indeed snoring. Shame too, cause Mel had range.

Still, Erato was not prepared for the sensuality of the piece. In no time, half of the troupe were among the spectators, gyrating and grinding, the satyrs playing their most horny renditions of hymns. Erato shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Next to her, Abby clapped enthusiastically and then leaned to kiss her wife. A deep, way too deep and long kiss to be on display in public. And since when did these kinds of things bother Erato? What was happening to her?

Before she could ponder about that, Melpomene in her all but naked-save-a-sheer-long-veil glory prostrated herself on Erato’s lap. To her left, Abby and Sabine continued to snog. Melpomene was now performing something that felt suspiciously like a lap dance, as if this hadn’t been a staging of anancient tragedy, and to her right, Demeter was all but frozen in place, her eyes wide and furious.

Melpomene chanted and lamented. Between tears, generously running down her cheeks, her ass ground quite nicely into Erato’s thighs.

Dionysus chose that moment to open his eyes and, after a few bleary blinks, swayed to his feet and loudly proclaimed, “The orgy part of Dionysia has begun!” before passing out again. The nymphs, as if unleashed, jumped each other. The braver ones made a beeline for some of the muses.

“For Olympus’ sake!” Demeter’s exclamation was followed by her bodily dislodging Melpomene off Erato’s lap and storming down the aisle, scattering the approaching nymphs like bowling pins and dragging the now freed yet slightly rumpled Erato behind. The last thing Erato saw as they exited the amphitheater was the look of triumph Sabine Goddard gave them as they moved around the swooning creatures.

6

WHERE FORCED PROXIMITY TROPE MORPHS INTO ONLY ONE BED TROPE (AND THE MUSE MAKES LISTS)

Erato considered herself a worldly woman. She had been everywhere, seen most of it—what hadn’t been obscured by a woman’s legs or breasts, that is—and overall had been thoroughly unimpressed by that very world. Unless the world in question contained the above mentioned legs or breasts. And now she had a third element to add to her “gobsmacked by” list. Demeter applying a layer of lotion to her graceful neck.

That was it. The whole list.

Legs,

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