Whom the Gods Love…Best First
A shadowed man whispered at Her Excellency’s side. Though he followed day and night, often rousing her from sleep with the pain, he wasn’t really there; she knew that.
In vulnerable hours alone, she fumbled for the switch of a bedside lamp. From a dark corner of the bedroom, her loyal companion watched as she drank Scotch over opium because nothing else mattered when night was small, not even rising at dawn, which would only summon her to another round of meetings, photographs, and speeches.
Her Excellency waved from the balcony at the cheering crowd below. They’d remember her in the blossom of her youth. Gems flashed at the proud lines of her throat. Her blonde hair was pulled tight and braided in a slick bun at her nape. A rose, perfuming the air, adorned her shoulder.
Her name passed the lips of thousands. The heat of their hearts swirled from the street. Their lifted arms offered her fealty and adoration. She absorbed their admiration and reflected what was best of them, her people, but the darkness remained within. That she kept, the companion at her side whose cold whisper feathered her ear with prophecy, “Whom the gods love…”
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Sunday Photo Fiction: 200-word stories
After agonizing illness and treatments, Eva Peron died at 33 from advanced cervical cancer.
photo credit: A Mixed Bag
March 19, 2017 at 9:36 am
Creepy. I like it.
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March 19, 2017 at 9:51 am
Thank you.
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March 19, 2017 at 9:44 am
I enjoyed the shadowed man paired with the illness, and that this was the idea that sprung from that photo. Well done.
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March 19, 2017 at 9:50 am
Thanks, Mandie. I first saw the dark-robed man as an assassin with a knife in her back. From that, it was a short symbolic leap to cancer and then to Eva Peron as the woman of power.
The assassin slant would be a more exciting story, but I think I want more than 200 words for that one.
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March 19, 2017 at 9:57 am
What I love is that you answered the question that was dancing around in my mind, and I never flat out asked it. I was curious about the train of thought that began at the picture and led to Eva Peron. Color me delighted at both your response and mind reading abilities.
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March 19, 2017 at 10:03 am
Hehe. One of my more lucid trains of thought.
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March 19, 2017 at 10:36 am
“Whom the gods destroy, they would first make mad”.
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March 19, 2017 at 11:04 am
Equally appropriate. The wiki article mentions the rumor that she underwent a lobotomy toward the end in order to spare her the pain. Life is more tragic than any play could ever depict.
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March 19, 2017 at 11:06 am
So sad and tragic.
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March 19, 2017 at 12:12 pm
What a spooky take on the image, and on the real life history of Eva Peron. How terrifying it would be to actually perceive illness — or Death — as a figure haunting you day and night.
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March 19, 2017 at 12:52 pm
Thank you for your comment, Joy.
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March 19, 2017 at 12:41 pm
A chilling tale. Linking it to Eva Peron gives it an even sharper edge.
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March 19, 2017 at 12:52 pm
Thanks for reading, Steve.
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March 22, 2017 at 3:42 am
I love how you took the symbolic leap and brought in the tragic story of Eva Peron. I am reading you more and loving every moment of it, Kecia.
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March 22, 2017 at 7:40 am
Thanks, Neel. That’s very flattering.
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April 24, 2017 at 4:35 pm
Death sits with us always.
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