My brother is punctual as always. He collects me every day to ride with him in his chariot. After such a long time and endless hours spent together spying on humanity, we haven’t much to say to each other anymore.
He doesn’t ask me about my doomed love affairs. We dissected them completely in the past. He has even stopped blaming me for not taking his advice each time a new prospective lover came on the scene.
He wasn’t impressed with my sudden decision to wed the king’s brother so long ago. Yes, I’m headstrong and volatile but at that time I just wanted to settle and be happy. My chosen groom was so handsome and valiant, what could have gone wrong?
Everybody who counted attended our wedding. As a gift, one of the guests offered to grant me a wish which would come true. I did ask and he complied.
Enough of my musing now. My thoughts and regrets are the same each day, I reflect, as my brother’s chariot alights by my home again. Now, I go check on my husband. It’s the same story with him too. He just sits there, drooling away in his bed, his body an ocean of wrinkles, his skin fragile as paper. He doesn’t recognise me anymore. I can’t help feeling angry and guilty at the same time.
I’m guilty for abandoning him, like a discarded and broken toy, now that he’s lost his youth and comeliness. I have locked him away, day after day in this forgotten room, far from my shame.
I’m angry at myself for my stupidity because I squandered my wish.
They call me rosy-fingered Eos, while I prefer to be called Dawn. I’m a goddess in my own right. Yet, ultimately, I’m just as foolish as any human, because I didn’t think it through properly and asked for the wrong thing on that fateful day.
I wished for my husband’s immortality, without asking for his eternal youth. Now I’m shackled to an old codger I can’t love anymore for the rest of forever!