Dark of the Moon
“As soon as I was old enough, I joined them. The pots always felt strangely alive as the weight in them shifted, and rose and fell. Although no one ever talked of it, we knew what lay coiled inside, their scales glittering, their forked tongues flicking in and out, their fangs ready to pierce the skin of anyone foolish enough to reach in without caution.
The priestesses were led by the Minos, who was robed in red and wearing the huge leather-and-bronze bull's head of the Planting Festival. We would disappear from the sight of the waiting crowd, into the small shrine housing the lumpy rock that held Goddess's essence. In that room stood She-Who-Is-Goddess, dressed in ceremonial robes: a heavy skirt that looped from her waist to the ground and an open-fronted jacket that revealed her breasts. Her face was painted stark white, her eyes and mouth looking like the spots on the moon, and her sash was tied behind her in a sacral knot. Gilded cow's horns glinted on her head.
At that point,... my mother had not yet fled from her body, and she looked at me with eyes filled with love and concern.MoreLess
The priestesses were led by the Minos, who was robed in red and wearing the huge leather-and-bronze bull's head of the Planting Festival. We would disappear from the sight of the waiting crowd, into the small shrine housing the lumpy rock that held Goddess's essence. In that room stood She-Who-Is-Goddess, dressed in ceremonial robes: a heavy skirt that looped from her waist to the ground and an open-fronted jacket that revealed her breasts. Her face was painted stark white, her eyes and mouth looking like the spots on the moon, and her sash was tied behind her in a sacral knot. Gilded cow's horns glinted on her head.
At that point,... my mother had not yet fled from her body, and she looked at me with eyes filled with love and concern.MoreLess
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