Marigolds and Mortals

1 - Storms and Surprises

     She had walked this earth many times before.

     Searching but never once stopping. Fighting, building, learning, traveling, all of it. What you could name, she had done. Except for one thing.

     There was one thing that was said to be unattainable for gods and goddesses, only accessible by mortals. When she first learned of this thing, she felt bitter that she couldn't have it, but she had accepted her fate over time.

     An unloving god. Maybe this was the best way. Maybe love was not fashioned for gods for a reason she didn't yet understand.

     But what knowledge could gods not get their hands on? Weren't they supposed to be all knowing? Wasn't their omniscient mind what seperated them from mortals?

     Much searching had never done well for her. After all the seeing, reading and listening she had done, she had still not found out.

     No poems had ever truly explained to her what love was, observing humans do things that they called love never made her understand anymore than she had before.

     She would never admit this to her divine brothers and sisters, but she sometimes wished that she was mortal. She had watched empires rise and fall, kingdoms go to war, humans murder others in cold blood. She had seen all the bad that people had done, and she had listened to her father tell her of all the gifts the immortals had that the mortals didn't.

     But still, she wished. She wished that she was clueless and happy, that she could wander the earth knowing her days were limited. She wished she could feel the whole array of human emotions and that once again, she could feel love.

     This is why she decided to stay in New York for a time. No one cared about her or her past, all they cared about was themselves. She could get away with being lonely for years, and no one would bat an eye.

     She had stayed in country towns before and had never enjoyed them. They cared too much about each other, and she felt that she couldn't do anything without ending up in the newspaper.

     She liked the bustling energy of the city. She liked watching the cars honk and the people talk and the pigeons fly and the light flash, she liked everything about the city.

     Well, almost everything.

     It was a stormy Tuesday evening. She had just gotten a freshly baked pretzel from a shop she could never possibly remember the name of. She was sitting on a wet bench, sadly watching her pretzel get soaked with rain.

     "Hello, young lady."

     She turned around and came face to face with an elderly man. He had thin white hair slicked back by the rain, his cheeks were a rosy shade of pink and he was shakily holding a bouquet. She raised her eyebrows.

     "Yes?"

     "How are you doing on this very fine day?" He gestured to the darkening sky. Small water droplets pattered softly on his shoulders and arms, tracing their way to the pavement below.

     A ping of annoyance shot through her. She just wanted to eat her pretzel and shoo him off. Instead, she took the civil route.

     "I'm doing very well, thank you." She smiled up at the clouds. "I've always loved stormy weather."
The old man nodded in agreement and sat down next to her, resting his mahogany cane in the space between them.

     "Who are those flowers for?" She asked, pointing to the wilting orange petals, "your wife, perhaps?"

     The old man shook his head and smiled sadly. Small wrinkles lined his eyes, giving him the impression of being wise. "They're for my grandson's grave. I was supposed to deliver them tonight, but it's getting awfully stormy-"