Medusa Speaks

Here's another product of an in-class writing exercise.

We had to take a mythological creature

and write a story in the form of a confession or speech.

I first thought of doing one of the seven dwarves,

then Beast from Beauty & the Beast.

Finally, I decided on the Loch Ness Monster,

but that felt too typical.

So I stay on the reptile track and chose Medusa.

Keep in mind, this is a rough draft.

I just like sharing my early work with you all.

Enjoy.

You don't know what it's like to be lonely

until you've spent a year,

at the very least,

in my shoes.

You would be a miserable hermit too

if you had snakes growing from you head.

Well, that and if people turned to stone

every time they looked at you.

I mean,

it's not as if I was born this way;

I've known a man's touch,

which makes this forced celibacy even harder.

Talk about a chastity belt.

Sure, my parents were strict,

but I never thought they'd talk a master of the dark arts

into plaguing me with this burden.

It's too bad.

I didn't want to turn them into stone,

but they had it coming.

I only regret it because I was unable to pay the taxes

to stay in the house.

Would you hire a chick with snakes growing out of her head,

even if she was as fine as me?

Now, I've tried everything to get rid of them.

I tied a bag over the top of my head;

the snakes just poked through that.

I dipped my head in scolding hot water;

their skin just toughened.

I clipped them off with shears;

they just grow back, twice in numbers.

Finally, I just gave up.

I left the village before the town folk decided to kick me out.

I might have given up hope with the snakes,

but I still needed some sort of companionship.

Their hissing was not enough.

So, I tried blind dating.

Like... literally.

I put up flyers telling men to come to a location

with blindfolds over their eyes.

As sketchy as that sounds,

men actually showed up.

They must have been desperate.

Well, they were all just as curious

as they were desperate.

Before the halfway point during any date,

I would turn my head

only to return my gaze to a statue

of a man with one eye peeking

from under his blindfold.

I almost reprinted the flyer

asking for blind men to apply.

Luckily, I'm not that dumb.

After about a baker's dozen of failed attempts,

I decided to take shelter in the deepest woods,

where I would only create stone woodland creatures.

Hmm. Possible business venture?

I'll keep you posted.

Word.