I set up my campfire as usual: six logs of wood and a lighter because who actually knew how to light a fire? Wake up people, it’s not 1450 anymore. I grumbled and waited for my fire to grow significantly. I liked being alone out here. It often became taxing to constantly be around incompetent beings and I thought it better when I was out here, alone. The thing is, I put on my tough act for so long that this time, with myself and my beliefs, was the only time I could really put down that mask.
The clearing where I light my fire each day is usually empty. The grass stretches out cleanly for miles and the stars glimmer brightly. Tonight, however, the stars are obscured and clouds conceal their glistening light. The clearing is still empty but a large pile of animal poop brings bile to my throat.
The fire has finally grown to a height that will do the job. I turn around and grab the food for tonight: mashed potatoes, a slab of meat, and some green beans. I arrange them on a plate, each sectioned off into its own clean area. Suddenly, I hear a gag from behind me and someone says, “You know, I would very much prefer my food un-burnt.” I whip my head around and see a silhouette walking toward me. A woman. Her legs are long and her muscles bulge out of the sides. Apart from this, I cannot tell much.
“Who- who are you?” I yell out to the shadow. A prank, I’m sure. Perhaps my brother found out and thought he’d get a laugh out of it.
“Leave me alone, Derek!” I say, trying to scare away my nuisance brother. I already know it’s not Derek.
“That isn’t of importance. I appreciate your sacrifice, Jasper, but it would be more appreciated if the food was less…” she paused. “How do I put this? Charred and well, ashy.”
I stared at her. What the heck? “I don’t go by that name,” I mutter. “And to my earlier question, who are you?”
She took a step closer. I could see who she was now. A white dress elegantly framed her muscular body. A gold belt wrapped around her waist, securing it in place. Her arms were muscular. She was striking. What was most intriguing was her shimmering pink eyes. I knew who she was. But I didn’t believe it. “Sorry, you go by ‘Joe’ now, correct?”
I scoffed. “Yeah. Look, lady, if you don’t mind, I’m busy and I'm not gonna donate to your charity so if you just scurry back along to your boyfriend who’s probably already married,” I make a pushing away motion with my hands, “that would be lovely.” She stares at me. “Give me that.” She takes the mashed potatoes, green beans, and meat. Just digs in. No fork. My mouth drops.
“That’s not for you,” I say laughing nervously. “It’s for-”
“The gods,” she replies, mouth full of food. Her hands go back to her mouth and shove in any crumbs that might have been left. “Very kind of you, these offerings.”
I just gawk at the woman. She steals this food that I’m offering to the gods, ignores my questions, and won’t stop talking about how it isn’t cooked right? “You know,” she says licking her fingers, “I’m a goddess. And something really cool that comes with it is I can hear your- this was delicious by the way, so much better un-burnt- thoughts.” She looks me up and down. “I can’t be coming down here every night because my brothers and sisters want some of these offerings too, and frankly they’re quite delicious when they aren’t blackened. I’m going to need you to find a way to get these to me without, you know…” she looks into the fire, disgusted. “I’m Eos, by the way.”
What. The actual. Freak. “Okay, ‘Eos”, how would you like me to deliver your meals? I don‘t suppose you use Seamless or Grubhub,” I shoot, sarcastically.
“No, I don’t in fact use those,” she says genuinely, “But I do have something else for you.” She opens her hand and gold sparkles begin to form a tiny tornado in her palm. It grows larger and larger until it takes the form of a shimmering delivery box. Eos blows on the box and all the glitter goes away. It’s… a cardboard box. Scrawled in pink crayon on the side are the words “Oddities and odds for your favorite gods”. She turns the box and on the other side is a smiley face, also written in pink crayon.
“You’re kidding me,” I say. “This is the end, I’m definitely hallucinating, going crazy, something.”
“Just put the food in here and it’ll send it right up to our home,” Eos says, grinning. “Look, I’ll try.” She leans down and grabs a brown leaf off the floor, placing it in the box. I lean over to look inside and the leaf shimmers away in a tornado of golden glitter. Not long after, a leaf lands on Eos’s head, and written on the leaf, again in pink crayon, are the words, “Stop it, Eos.”
“Not only am I going crazy, but apparently cults for kindergarteners exist now.”
“Try it tomorrow night,” Eos says.
She begins to walk away but I call after her, “And what if I don’t?”
She looks me up and down. “I will get my meat one way or another,” she says. “It doesn’t have to be a cow.”