Story a Day, Day 25: The Goddess of Metaphor and Symbolism Gets Drunk

Final day, the goddess of metaphor and symbolism, sister to cliche, got drunk as a baby’s butt and dropped her satchel with as many figures of speech as there are stars in your eyes, and everything became mixed beyond condescension.

It was not only metaphors, similes, all species of analogy, but visual images too: Men were carted to their deaths by storks, death grumbled and dropped off babies dangling from his scythe to happy and horrified parents. Zeus woke up that morning furious and made more furious by the discovery that he wasn’t quite sure what side of the bed he had woken up on. He was sure of one thing: something wasn’t quite wrong.

Zeus rainstormed out of his house mad as a silver spoon in his mouth, and all but immediately stumbled upon the hungover goddess, who was trying with great ease to tell the difference between apples and oranges. Several looks at her, what with her looking like hell warmed over, and Zeus knew something was down.

After indifferent interrogation, it slowly dusked on Zeus and the goddess that if things were not put right immediately, there would be hell to rent. Major religions would collapse into confusion: the four horseman of the apocalypse would be drawing straws as to who gets to bring the gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus the moneylender, while the three wise men would be stupidly trying to figure out how to properly mount a horse so as to be harbinger’s of Buddhism, while the Jews were waiting to capitalize on their ten years of tradition and return to the land in Canada that god had mentioned to Moses they might have–the land of milk and cookies.

Many of the images and stories that people used to bond to each other, as well as the very comparison’s they made of themselves and others to their religious and spiritual heroes and myths were rendered obsolete. People became rudderless, and before Zeus’ very nostrils, nonsensical, babbling with perfect comprehension in logical, unillustrative language. Politicians and scientists no longer knew how to twist their words to hide or reveal meaning–everyone spoke of what they knew directly and plainly.

Writers just sat on their faces and watched as artistic endeavors were sucked wet. The gods of all religions came to Zeus, confused about their own lives and who was supposed to be doing what–they were nothing but metaphors and with all the confusion were flickering like candles in the zone before his very eyes. He two was at once big as a mouse, blind as a hawk, many-armed and triple legged, losing strength, he reached out and plucking at cupid’s bow and arrow produced such a thunderclap that all of earth was seared quiet. For days no being on earth could speak or hear.

The goddess of metaphor and symbol, with the help of cliche and all the other gods, rushed to sort out their system before people regained the ability to use them, verbalize them. And they did, for the most part: the Easter bunny now hatched eggs, and Venus was horrified to discover a fantastically large and ornate pair of testicles were now part of her mystique.

But, order was mostly restored, and Zeus promptly tuned around and slapped the goddess of metaphor and cliche into yesterday.


About Big Adam

A NYC doorman, a community organizer, wannabe ape, sometimes blogger, sometimes writer, always crossword puzzle incompleter, I will ride bicycles with your papa, dance Bhangra with your mama, take you on dates that cost nada.
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One Response to Story a Day, Day 25: The Goddess of Metaphor and Symbolism Gets Drunk

  1. Good read, for me anyway. Kind of like reading folklore tales on acid! “Keep it going”

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