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Reminders Of Home (Original Fiction, Drabble)


The Ghost Lord
So this is a bit of a weird one.. This was a drabble done for art class, with us being assigned to switch gears and write a poem or short story about another person's piece, and I was assigned this: https://flic.kr/p/2kV8gG1
Despite not having any writing energy in months I went feral churning out a drabble/scene for this. It's still ONLY a drabble but it's a nice little tie in to my WIP project Gods Of Earth and it's really refreshing I had it in me to write it at all. So behold:

Reminders Of Home

Dionysus looked around the landscape of the terraformed planet. , or more specifically this valley. There didn't seem to be3 a vineyard in sight.


"Yo, Dyo!" said a voice.

Dionysus froze. He knew that voice. It was his father Zeus. Why was HE here?

Granted, Dionysus already knew the technical answer to this question. The old gods had been scattered across space in a far future where humanity barely remembered them. But he still questioned why his awful father was bothering HIM when he was critiquing human landscaping!

"Lovely view isn't it son?

"Well, yes," Dionysus said, "but the humans could have do9ne so much more with it! Vineyards, olive trees, maybe an orchard!"

"I dunno dude. It reminds me of... home."

Dionysus paused. Home. Earth. They had been gone there for a long time, and it seemed that here in the far reaches of space theyy'd be gone for a while longer.

Dionysus' hardened heart did miss it.

:"Yeah dad, it... Kinda does."

Zeus looked up to the rock6 parts of the canyon. "Do you think anything is like, fossilized there?

"Of course not. There was no life here before humans shored up."

Still. Again it made him think. The mythology of the gods was once a living thing, but over time it fossilized, made him and his kin into what they arte today.

And now those fossils are wearing away.

"Well, come on, back to the ship, we gotta go, dude," said Zeus.

Dionysus sighed. "Coming..."

He turned to follow Zeus, then looked back at the valley.

Maybe his dopey, flirtatious father was right for once. Maybe this was better the way it was.

A testament to home. A testament to what was left behind.

He hoped they could get back to the real thing.