Chapter Eleven: Pandora’s Box

Her smashed wedding gift, a sealed pithos, lay shattered at her feet. In despair, she collapsed to the floor and wept. It was her first night of being alive and it was terrifying.

Epimetheus accepted Zeus’ gift of the first human woman with relish. Her body was shaped in luscious soft curves which felt sublime against his hardness. Epimetheus tore her purple linen chiton off her body, leaving her standing shivering in front of him. She would his be favourite toy, for a while. His exploration was brutal and frenzied. When he found out he could rut with her as the animals did, he fucked her. It was different when nymphs indulged gods. Pandora was horror-struck. He liked it. Afterwards, Epimetheus sauntered off to have a warm bath attended by his consorts.

She was an unwilling bride to a foolish god. Despite Prometheus’ warnings, his younger brother Epimetheus accepted Pandora as a gift from Zeus. Carved from clay, she was blessed with beauty, boldness and cunning. In reality, she was made to bring desolation to men, to ensure Zeus’ hubris and hauteur was appeased. This cruelty was nothing new, but then all the gods were craven with their creations.

Prometheus had wanted the men he moulded to have worthy lives, but for that, they needed their fire back. Without it, they were nothing but animals scared of the dark. To Zeus, it was not the looted fire that mattered. Prometheus defied him. The Trojan Horse was a sealed pottery vase.

Zeus had forbidden Pandora to open the pithos. Pandora was enraged. Zeus was complicit. He must have known Epimetheus would violate her. She had trusted a god. Never again.

She stared with disgust and despair at the kline where Epimetheus had raped her. Pandora wished she didn’t exist. She grabbed the vase and obliterated it. Wailing cacophonies of screaming spirits escaped. In fear she threw herself to the cold stone ground, naked, in a foetal position, to evade the fleeing daimones. Men would know pain, disease and plague, and it was her fault.

Pandora hadn’t been told what was in the vase, but then she also didn’t know she was a weapon. It was not her guilt to bare. She curled into a foetal position on the cold tiled floor. Pandora felt a soft hand caress her cheek. Elpis was finally free. She comforted Pandora with hope. It was all Pandora had but at least it was something.

Categories: Bedtime Stories for Purple Girls, Books

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