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(Page 2 of 2) Wine and Whirlwinds by Rob Garbin The rain turned to drizzle and stopped.
The fiery orb of Apollo shone over the devastated lands. Under the rising sun, the villagers first looked at the wrath of the storm and then began the long process of restoring order to their lives. Damaged roofs had to be cleared away along with drying mud. Animal pens needed repaired and the beasts needed temporary fodder until fresh supplies could be gathered. As Apollo sunk low on the horizon, only a small part of the destruction had been repaired.
With a weary aspect, Apollo rode his winged tripod back to Olympus and the halls of the gods. As he entered the throne room of Zeus, he nearly slipped upon one of hundreds of empty bottles of wine covering the floor. His sister Artemis smiled wickedly as she paused on her way to her designated task as Goddess of the Moon. "Athena was quite put out with father this morning for killing one of her precious owls!" she said, a mischievous grin barely hidden. Apollo smiled back as he looked into the room.
Zeus lay upon his throne with one leg hanging over an arm of the marble seat. His golden crown riding low upon is brow. Poseidon and Hades sat on the steps of the throne's dais; a game of dice with small statues of men toppled between them. Lying in the center of the hall with most of the bottles, Dionysus let out a contented burp and smiled blearily at Apollo. At the remains of a huge table of feasting curled up among the carcasses stripped bear by the Gods, Hestia slept soundly.
"You know father, you left quite a mess down there. I don't know how many more Godly parties man can survive." Apollo said with a lopsided smile.
Zeus started then brought his focus around to Apollo. "Does them good! Gives them challenges. By the way did you see that Popular tree I spliced open with a lightning bolt?"
Apollo grinned. "Who lost the bet this time?
Poseidon stirred; he opened his eyes and gave a knowing wink to Apollo. Everyone knew that Zeus loved to show off at parties so each of the lesser Gods would take turns losing bets to the king in order to keep him happy. Most of the bets usually involved some beautiful mortal woman. Slowly, as the other Gods awakened, stories of the party's revelries were passed around. Down on earth, human families slept soundly under the moonlit night of Artemis, exhausted from a day of cleaning up after the Gods. Not one of them thought to curse their patron deities.
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