Christopher M. Dempsey
From atop his Olympian office, this self-deluded Zeus toys with people’s lives, deigning with an ink-stroke of his omnipotent hand who lives and who hurts.
Blessed are those who offer up groveling sacrifices of ingratiating praise, for upon them he bestows his favor, writes their names on his Triplicate Pad of Life.
But woe unto those who threaten his ego by daring to hurt beyond his ability to medicate, for they invoke his wrath.
So it is with her. She comes to him for help, begs him to remove her crown of thorns.
Infuriated by his own impotence, he rises to his Titanic stature, chilling her with his cold, ungodly shadow.
Thundering, he hurls a fiery lightning bolt that consumes her, leaving charred earth and stone where she had been kneeling.
The smoke dissipates; his wrath subsides. He nods, smiling in satisfaction, (continued) as he resumes his rightful place upon his celestial throne, this unmerciful jury of One.
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