Me Me Monday: Eryximachia Protests

Eryximachia: I must say, I don’t care for how the scribbler portrayed me in this novella of hers, A Symposium in Space. At best I come off as a pompous fool. At worst, I’m unhanded. This is most unaccurate. The fool created me. Doesn’t she realize I’m a spiritual therapist? This means I have everyone’s, the very universe well-being at heart. True, I’m primarily dedicated to Agathea, but doesn’t she understand? Agathea is the first and foremost citizen in the Intergalactic Democracy. She is the best and brightest we have to offer, a shining star among life givers. Her success isn’t merely my success, it’s far more than that. Her triumphs are the very key of the glory and good health of the universe.

You look confused. No surprise. Not many people can keep up with me. You may be wondering just what a spiritual therapist is. Just how is it a different than an ordinary therapist? Really, you might as well compare one of those antiquated space stations with a cluster. Unlike an ordinary therapist, I see the broader picture. I see how the individual is part of the universal spirit, can see the goddess lurking within her. I seek to bring that out. I encourage my patients to nourish their heavenly qualities, while keeping all other aspects of themselves in harmony with the divine.

No, I will not explain further. To do so would be to give away trade secrets, which are my sacred duty to keep. Why are you giving me that look? You resemble Pausania when I…oh, wipe that expression off your face, scribbler! I’m not giving away any ‘spoilers’, pah! Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m doing at this ridiculous Cauldron of yours. There are much more important tasks awaiting me. A life giver of my talents can’t waste hers on a second rate hack, even if that second rate hack created me.

(With those words, Eryximachia stalks out of the mists of the Cauldron, anti-gravity objects floating around her. Talk about being dissed by my characters! I’m starting to miss Quartz…)

Quartz: I keep telling you, scribbler. I’m one of the nicer folks in your head.

Me: (sighs)

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#RainbowSnippets: A Symposium in Space

Welcome to Rainbow Snippets!

Every Saturday (or Sunday), those participating post and share six sentences of LGBTQIA+ fiction on their blogs. It can be their own. It can be someone else’s. It just needs to be LGBTQIA+.

To read a wide variety of samples from LGBTQIA+ stories, go here…

https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets/?ref=group_header

I’m right now deep in the middle of edits for A Symposium in Space, so how about a little more from that particular story?

 

“Phaedra, beloved of Pausania.” A melodic voice, filled with sly suggestion, came from the orb. “I’d be very pleased if you and your lover would attend my symposium in space.”

“A symposium?” I murmured, confused by the archaic word. It conjured more images of Ancient Earth, but this time of our patriarchal past. An era when those who looked down at you were referred to as patronizing rather than matronizing.