The Confused ancient Greek woman

Hello all. My name is Europa of Corinth, daughter of Cleon. Named after the most beautiful mortal who was desired by the Gods. I have been sent to this harsh and disturbing era as punishment, I presume. One day, I was sitting by my window with my handmaidens brushing my hair, when I saw my reflection and could not help but exclaim at my beauty. I may have said I was more beautiful than Aphrodite, but that still does not condone what happened next. A white flash covered my vision, and a ringing overtook my senses. I awoke on a street with morbid human creations. Loud, angry metal horses tried to attack me, so I ran into a store for shelter.

In Corinth, my father owned many stores. He was a wine merchant who did most of his trade in Corinth, which is why my five sisters and three brothers lived in the bustling city. I am the fairest of all my sisters due to my mother’s devotion to Aphrodite during her pregnancy. As my father is wealthy, I have access to all the best perfumes and oils. This fascination of mine has made it hard for my father to find me a suitor. I openly display my vanity and intelligence, which does not make for a good wife. I myself am not interested in the sweaty, smelly men who knock on my door, expecting food and wine so that they can ogle my sisters and me. Sometimes I fantasized about going to the island of Lesbos to escape the foolish men who wished to marry me.

I knew better than to insult Aphrodite, I mean, the Trojan war began because of such an act. But I had had some wine, and became overtaken with my own beauty.

 Surely the Gods would understand. But no, restraint is essential in the life of an Ancient Greek woman. A lack of restraint can never be forgiven in the eyes of the Gods. Women are quiet, loyal, and produce many baby boys. I have always resented these prospects, but I never saw a different way until I found myself in the modern city of New York. Now, I guess, I am the Europa of New York.

I found myself in a shoe store. Yet it was a store made for the Gods. It was named after the great goddess Nike. Yet there were no statues in her name. Just many shoes. Or what the modern person would call shoes. These were colorful, thick blocks of toxic otherworldly material.

They were stacked like offerings in a temple, glowing beneath harsh white light. Some shoes were soft as a kitten, others hard as marble. There were some of the brightest colors I had ever seen outside of the flowers outside my palace. Some were tall enough to make a woman look like a giant, while others looked as though they were made for running from the terrors that writhed outside. I wondered if these people worshipped Nike not with prayers, but by wearing such shoes. 

The humans spoke into small glowing tablets and laughed to themselves as if possessed by spirits. No one noticed my silk dress or my gold bracelets. No one bowed. No one stared. In Corinth, I would have caused a procession. Here, I was invisible.

I do not yet understand this world, but I intend to. If the Gods have cast me into this strange age, then I will observe it, study it, and write of it. I will learn their customs and discover what they worship. Perhaps this is my trial. Or perhaps this is my freedom.

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