April 16th
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Agamemnon, what were you thinking? You thought you could outrun the Furies on your trail? They’ve been after you since before you were born — you can thank your family for it — all murderers and traitors and blasphemers. You thought you can appease Artemis by scarifying your own daughter Iphigeneia? Gods laughed at you, at your cruelty and stupidity. Then they send you to war, to spend 10 years at Troy seeing the best on both sides dying like pawns falling from the chessboard in a random game between Gods. And yet you said you won that war, you were on the side that brought destruction and fire and rape to Priam’s people and town. And you were given a Cassandra as a spoil of war, and you took her home. Did you ever talk to her on the way to Mycenae? Ah, that would be of no use anyway, she was cursed as well — she knew and saw the future, but no one would believe her words. And Gods were not done with you yet — where are your son and your brother and your brothers in arms? All gone — drown or scattered in foreign lands by Poseidon’s anger. And where are you now? The red tapestries that Queen Clytemnestra spread down on the ground for your weary feet on your arrival, led you to the bathtub filled now with your blood from the wound by her hand. Cassandra is dead as well — may she finally have peace and rest. And as for you — you will forever walk in the shadow of Land of the Departed Spirits, looking for visitors and waiting for news from the land of the living.
And Gods are not done yet, and your family will never get any rest and respite from them and from their fate and from the Furies. They are coming.
