The Love and Death of Medusa Gorgon

A lazy heat hung in the air and slowly flowed onto the yellow-white sand that smoothly covered the seashore. The sea also seemed quiet and barely moved, sweltering from the heat. The white circle of the exhaustingly eternal golden sun was motionless in the pale blue high sky. It seemed as if the whole world had fallen silent and lay low, waiting for something.

On the hot yellow sand there were barely visible grooves, stretching from the sea and ending near a wet creature lying on the shore: Gorgon Medusa had just emerged from the sea after a love meeting with Poseidon and was resting on the shore, freely lying on the hot sand and enjoying the midday peace and quiet. Her body was

beautiful and perfect, there was a mysterious half-smile on her beautiful face, and her eyes, with large eyelashes, were closed. Carelessly spread long hair lay on the sand, and only sometimes the ends of the hair opened their mouths and lazily showed a red mouth with a long forked tongue and sharp poisonous teeth.

Medusa still remembered someone else’s body and had not yet cooled down from the heat of the love encounter. She smiled, remembering the young and divinely handsome Poseidon.

The god of the sea was tall, slender, his body smelled of the salty fresh sea, and was elastic, agile and desirable, like the gentle waves of the sea. Long green curly hair, sparkling emerald eyes, thin pale lips adorned his white, beautiful face.

In a fit of desire, she began to move, squirm and press against the body of the god, intertwining her tender hands around his neck, grabbing his long green wet hair, and putting a slight moan and passion into the kiss. She always wanted to play this game with him, and she rushed about, escaping his slippery hands; then, as if by accident, she leaned forward and pressed herself to her chest. She caught the gaze of his emerald-sparkling eyes and knew that she looked damn beautiful: her large scarlet mouth, slightly swollen from kisses, hardened pink nipples, a dark triangle and long legs fascinated the sea god.

He ​​pressed her closer to him, and his crazy gaze worried and burned. Everything inside her died down and shrank, as if about to leap into the unknown. His strong and gentle hands, slowly, gently stroked her back. Their passionate kiss seemed eternal, and their naked bodies pressed against each other and became hot, flexible and mobile.

Poseidon's lips were already kissing the neck and finding the chest. The nipples basked in the caress of the soft tongue and hardened even more, causing the body to shudder with sweetness and languor. The kisses became abrupt, stinging, and the bodies were already moving, aligning and adjusting to each other, preparing to merge and become one. Her legs wrapped around the god's thighs and she felt his hard flesh seeking entrance. The woman arched, opening even wider, allowing the beautiful and impatient Poseidon to enter her. And when he was already deep inside, they froze, feeling the completeness of the merger, and their movements became synchronous and familiar. Medusa tensed her hips and beat like a surf on the shore of the god: slowly at first, and then faster and faster, rolling away and approaching again.

Their feelings, like the sea, became thunderous and stormy, everything boiled and seethed: there was pain, and pleasure, and struggle, and love. She felt the tension and trembling of his body. Another moment - and here is the moment of liberation. Poseidon gets very hard inside her, and then is soft and empty. Relaxation and languor take possession of them.

The wind and the sound of the sea enter their consciousness.

The God of the Sea kisses her tenderly and disappears, floating into the dark black depths, and his liquid slowly flows out of her body, turning into white gelatinous jellyfish, slowly spreading in all directions and into all seas.

And then peace and quiet comes.

The sun is already so high in the sky that its hot rays seem to dry out everything, even the sea. Medusa, like a silver fish thrown out of the water by a storm, lies on the sand, tired, drunk with love and wanting nothing more than rest. She stretches slightly and only now notices a young man nearby who is patiently watching her. She does not look at him, but feels all his movements, and the poisonous snakes rise slightly and hiss.

- Who are you? - she asks.

He ​​comes a little closer and timidly.

- I am Perseus.

-Perseus... - Medusa repeats.

The snakes on her head rose higher and hissed louder, making her head look terrible.

-Why did you come?

- Athena sent me.

- Athena? — the woman was surprised. The snakes also stopped hissing, but did not calm down, but silently opened their red mouths with white teeth. — What does she want?

— She asked me to pass this on,” he took out an object that sparkled in the sun from his shoulder bag and hesitantly held it in his hand. But it was not a sword or a dagger.

Only now Medusa remembered her conversation with Athena:

— Aren’t you bored with Poseidon?” Athena asked once. Then Medusa smiled and remained silent. Is it possible to talk about gods with the gods? “I will send you a gift,” the goddess said then and laughed with her beautiful laugh, so similar to silver bells, slightly touched by a light breeze.”

- “What is this?

- Mirror.

- Mirror?... - She was especially surprised.

The woman fell silent, lost in thought. The snakes also calmed down a little, closed their mouths and calmly lay down.

Athena knew what she was doing: sending the woman a handsome young man, much younger than her, and giving her a mirror. Only a woman, even a goddess, could do such a thing.

— Why did she send me a mirror? - thought Medusa. “So the gods are giving me a sign... What?”

- Come closer to me... Just don’t look at me, I want to look at you.

He, lowering his head and looking into the yellow sand, slowly approached her.

— I don’t want to harm you...” she added, looking at him.

It was half a boy - half a youth, with juicy bright red, slightly capricious lips, with shiny, naive and trusting eyes, framed by fluffy eyelashes, making them even more naive and trusting. His smooth young body with brown shiny shoulders was tender, and there was still no hair near his large dark nipples; he had strong strong legs, covered with golden down from the sun, and his tight round butt was covered with a white loincloth. Despite his young age, he had strength and masculinity.

She carefully examined the young man and felt that, against her will, kindness, purity and the desire for love were creeping into her imperceptibly and forever. She didn’t want his inevitable death, but she didn’t want to let him go either.

— Why not him? — she suddenly thought to herself, looking at Perseus. “I am mortal, and someday this must happen.”

He ​​still hesitantly held Athena’s gift in his hand.

It was a strange and magical mirror: it lay with Athena for a long time, useless and bored from melancholy and loneliness, covered with a layer of gray and caustic dust, evenly falling on the surface. Nothing but the dim distant room with old objects was reflected in it, and the rare dim rays of day reluctantly indicated the change of day and night. Thus moments, seconds, minutes, hours passed; the hours were folded into gray days, and the days were contained in identical gray years, pressed by layers of gray dust.

Occasionally, some insect would accidentally fly into the room, which, buzzing or squeaking, would be caught in a thick and disgustingly sticky-heavy and also gray, like everything here, web of gray and old spiders. No one and nothing disturbed, and did not want to disturb the gray peace of this world. The mirror was waiting for the moment when it could carry out the mistress’s instructions, like a faithful and devoted servant impatiently awaiting an order. Now it was in the hands of the victim and knew what to do.

— Strange gift,” Medusa looked in the mirror. A beautiful face looked out from there. The woman looked at herself with satisfaction and seemed to have forgotten about the messenger. He, after standing near her for a while, changing from foot to foot, and seeing that she was busy looking at herself in the mirror, slowly moved away from her, stepping on the soft sand. Perseus began to look at the stone sculptures that were nearby.

-Who is this? - he asked.

- These are my guests. They were all living people, and they all stayed here,” she smiled.

The young man felt terrified.

- Was everyone alive? - he asked again.

— That’s it…” the smile did not leave her lips.

He ​​silently approached them.

- Were they all your lovers? - Perseus asked, touching the hard, porous stone of the nearest statue.

The woman remained silent, moving slightly. She didn't really want to talk about it.

- Did you love them? - He walked further and touched another statue.

- No...

- Do you remember everyone? - The next statue was a little rough.

She looked at the frozen bodies. Some of them have already been eaten away by the wind and salty sea air.

- Yes, everyone...

They were all different: they were quiet, cunning, they were loud with a strong laugh; bearded and smooth-faced, boys and old men, warriors and peasants; many were young, beautiful, thirsty for fame, power, wealth; they came one at a time, two at a time, several at a time. She saw through everyone: she saw their beating hearts, their thoughts, their feelings and desires. For them, endowed with fabulous beauty, Medusa, bewitching anyone who looked at her, was terrible and beautiful, ruthless and indifferent, desired and hated. And she always saw the eyes of those who came at their dying moment. The eyes, like the people, were different: mostly they were dark, like ripe Greek olives; Rarely did you come across blue ones like the spring sky, or blue ones like the evening sea; sometimes they came with green eyes, like Poseidon's.

-Who is this? - asked Perseus.

She didn't even look. It had been so long ago, but she remembered him well: he had a strong body and black, burning eyes. His strong and beautiful body was agile and erotic, it was heavy and muscular. Brown strong hands held and squeezed her body tightly. And the eyes!... They were crazy and incredibly beautiful, oily! Now those beautiful oily eyes have become stony and porous.

- He was a real Greek, a real warrior and a real man. It's a pity that he didn't want to stay...

Perseus wandered between the statues, looking at and touching them. He felt uneasy.

- Is there anyone here who has not known your love?

- There is...

He ​​was just a boy with naive and kind eyes, honest and truthful. He needed money to cure his sick mother and feed his family. He constantly cried and asked for help. So he remained a boy, and would never grow up or grow old...

Some recently frozen bodies were strong and still resisted time: this boy, and that one an experienced warrior.

Perseus went into the very depths of the statues, examining them.

- Who is this lying so strangely? Do you remember him too?

Did she remember him? - Of course, I remembered.

- This one was a shepherd and came in a goat's cape. He brought wine in a beautiful amphora. Here, where you are standing now, there was a table on which lay his bread, his cheese, his olives, his grapes, his food. The shepherd spoke good, sincere words, and was as simple and pure as the sky, like the sea, like sand. But he thought that he was the most cunning in the world.

She grinned.

- He had poisoned wine. How he suffered, rolling in terrible contractions from pain in his stomach on this sand, white foam flowed from his mouth, and he screamed, begging: “Kill me! Don’t torment me!” So the stone lies there. And next to him is his beautiful amphora. The poisonous wine, which he had not finished drinking, had long since dried up.

- Who is this? — the young man approached the next figure.

- This one was so hairy that it resembled those creatures that have a tail and jump through trees. Even now, body hair is visible on the stone. He was fat and old. I don't even want to remember.

-Who is this? - Perseus asked again, approaching the next one.

She wondered - she didn't remember him. She tensed up a little and frowned. No, he won’t remember at all. She shook her head and thought again. Probably one of the early ones. Yes, yes. He was like most. They were all already in a fog, and it seemed: was this really happening to her? But the statues reminded her of this by looking at her.

Perseus walked up to the black statue and touched it too.

- Why is this figure black?

- He was black in real life, with big lips and white teeth. And he came from a distant ancient country, where there are gods and where the big blue river originates.

- Did he want your head too?

- Yes. They were all warriors and came with hatred... Why did I need their hatred?... I needed their love.

They wanted one thing - to kill her, and they knew what they were doing. Many had families, wives, children, mothers waiting for them. And they didn’t wait. Dreams, lives, bodies remained here: they found eternal peace and the end of their life’s journey on this shore.

- Could you let someone live? - Perseus asked again.

- No one left here... - She smiled again.

- Will I become like this too? - Fear of death was voiced in this question.

What should I answer him? She fell silent, then straightened her back and stretched. She's tired of remembering. All this is already in the past. And now he is desired.

A light breeze that appeared from nowhere - probably the naughty Zephyr blew on her again, flirting - lightly touched her and interrupted the memories, carrying them into the distance.

The young man also fell silent, waiting for an answer.

— I don’t know...” she said barely audibly. — This is the will of the gods...

The sky was clear, and it seemed that the sun was not moving. A lazy peace reigned all around.

-Why did you come? - Medusa asked unexpectedly.

He ​​sat down on the hot sand and fell silent. His eyes looked down, and his thoughts were confused in his head.

— To say or not to say?” - he thought.

Perseus remembered the divine Athena and her words: “Do this for me,” the goddess smiled beautifully and lightly touched his young lips with her divinely sweet lips.

Perseus was young and did not yet know how to lie.

— I came for your head,” he said quietly, embarrassed and blushing. He felt ashamed.

The woman sighed. How many of them came for her head. She saw his inner struggle and knew what he was thinking.

- Why do you need it? - She also asked quietly and somehow indifferently.

- Become famous.

-What can you give in return?

It seemed to him that the confession he said brought relief, and now he wanted to do something good and big. He was sincere in his desire.

- Love.

- Is your love worth my life? - She wanted to look at him and look into his eyes, but she understood that this could not be done.

Perseus felt heavy again, and he sighed. It seemed to him that even the white-gold grains of sand froze from the bright sun. Everything became silent in the air. Even the never-tiring waves stopped making noise.

Medusa smiled: she saw and understood what was happening to him. She already wanted to play this deadly game with him, although she knew how it would end. She threw her head back. One could see how the barely visible blue veins pulsated trustingly on her tender neck.

— Take her,” she said.

She waited calmly, and her snakes hissed and darted venomously.

But the fatal blow did not come. Her face was lightly touched by warm, strong fingers.

— You are beautiful,” said Perseus.

The woman, smiling slightly, opened her mouth, and the young man stroked her lips.

— Now you’re mine,” she thought with satisfaction.

The day was tired and somehow disappeared imperceptibly along with the sun that sank into the sea. The black southern night, which quickly replaced the yellow heat and bright white light, covered the whole world with darkness and mystery. The red lunar disk in the black velvet sky resembled the ominous eye of the god of war. The night was filled with mysterious rustling and mysterious, chilling whispers. At first it was a vague, quiet whisper, but it intensified, and soon the unintelligible hum turned into human voices. The voices sounded more and more clearly, they interrupted each other, called, cursed, cried and moaned: “Love me!... I curse!... I hate!... Have pity!... Don’t kill!... Let go!...”

This terrible polyphony rushed from the stone motionless figures.

-What is this? - asked Perseus.

— They all come to life at night,” Medusa answered and calmly continued, “but they cannot leave their stone bodies.”

The young man became scared from these voices.

- When will they stop talking?

- In the morning... When the first rays of the sun touch the surface of the sea and their frozen bodies.

— You’re not afraid of them,” he asked, for some reason lowering his voice.

— No... What are they afraid of?... They’re not alive,” she smiled.

-Aren’t you scared? - Perseus looked around.

- I'm used to it. They've been here for so long that it seems to me they've been here forever.

The starry wine of love splashed across the sky, giving night oblivion, night dreams, night dreams and night passion, hidden and quiet on a hot day. Passion quietly entered the mind and body and took possession of them; she waited for the creature to weaken and for dark, perverted night fantasies and annoying, obsessive night images to come to her aid.

A young man and a woman lay on the shore, and the hot soft sand was their love bed. From somewhere far away the remnants of the day's heat puffed out.

— Perseus,” said the woman, “I want to be your captive today.”

She relaxed and completely surrendered to the will of the hero. Perseus leaned down slightly and kissed her. The snakes didn't even hiss.

The black night intoxicated and seduced, like a witch, like a sorceress, like a beautiful hetaera.

She touched his chest with her lips, and her tongue began to lick his nipples. A shiver ran through the young man’s body from unusual pleasure, he felt heat and a slight chill, and, opening his mouth, exhaled hot air.

- I haven’t had anyone yet...

— So, I’ll be your first... and you’ll be my last,” Medusa thought with slight sadness.

The sea waves, slightly hissing, tried to reach them, but could not.

He ​​began to caress her breasts, squeezing them with his hands. And she, having forgotten about everything in the world, lay there, moaned a little and said: “More... more... I want more...”. He, spreading and lifting her legs, began to slowly and clumsily, but with great desire, penetrate his mistress. She moaned from the pleasure she was receiving and trembled slightly in his hands. This moment was one of the most memorable and pleasant moments in her life, and seemed to be the long-awaited one that she had been waiting for so much. She wanted this to last as long as possible, she wanted Perseus to go deeper and deeper, faster and faster. And her wish came true: his movements became stronger, his moaning and love claps became louder.

She so passionately wanted to open her eyes and look at her lover, but just as she was about to do this, he entered her so deeply that she screamed and tensed. This cry was a cry of pain, which aroused her even more. His hands reached up and squeezed her breasts, and Perseus thrust deep into her once again. Then he did it again and again. And again and again she felt incredibly painful and pleasant. After repeating this a few more times, he settled into a rhythmic tempo. Soon she realized that she was about to cum.

- I love you, Perseus...

- I love you too...

Under his insane onslaught, she was already exhausted and knew: a little more and incomparable bliss would come for her. Medusa had never made such crazy love before; none of her partners dared to allow themselves to do this. And only Perseus entered her like an animal, wild and untamed. The young man stroked her shoulders, neck, back, waist. She felt her insides become wet. His kisses began to travel down her chin, neck, chest to her stomach. He threw one of the woman's legs over his head, putting her on all fours and pulling her towards him. His rough, inept, unpracticed movements gave her more pleasure than a love meeting with the experienced Poseidon.

The sea was slightly stormy, and it seemed to be angry, jealous and tormented in impotent anger.

The young man moved so fast that she began to scream at the top of her voice both from fear and from bliss. Inside him, hot dark energy was already bubbling and was about to come out. Beads of sweat ran down his body. And suddenly he felt a lightning-fast sweetness, an incomparable pleasure that seemed to stop time, although it lasted only a fraction of a second. Out of breath, he emptied himself on the woman satisfied with him and began to breathe heavily.

- I want us to always be together...

- So it will be...

And then they lay relaxed on the sand, trying to catch their breath. There had never been such wild passion in her life. Even with the god of the sea, she did not have such pleasure. Perseus passionately whispered to her:

- You burned my life with passion, filled me with the sun of your beautiful lips, quenched the hunger of my thirsty body, taught me to speak the language of love, filled my soul with the warmth of your heart.

The sea waves still tried to reach them, but lazily and reluctantly. The night sky mysteriously winks with stars. One silver-yellow star suddenly ran across the sky, paused slightly and, flashing brightly, disappeared beyond the horizon. And again, in the silence of the night, the kingdom of her silver sisters shimmering and whispering about something reigned.

Perseus extended his hand to the sleeping woman’s head and easily moved away the two snakes that had fallen on her face. The snakes have already gotten used to it, and allow themselves to be stroked, and Medusa’s lips trembled slightly - she smiled in her sleep. What is she dreaming about? Olympus with gods? People who want her dead? Or a lover whom she will never meet eyes with?

Now she trusted Perseus with her life, and she knew that he would not take advantage of her defenselessness and would not take her jewel - her head, because he loved her.

Days passed after days, giving and languishing from the yellow heat, bright white light and agonizing anticipation. One night, having waited out the day, followed another, also giving starry darkness, the whisper of statues, strong passion and insatiable love. Time seemed to stand still and not move.

One afternoon Perseus

sat on the shore and silently, intently poured dry dusty sand from one hand to the other. Yellow golden grains of sand slowly and little by little poured back onto the shore. But he again scooped up and again concentratedly poured the warm sand. Soon he got bored with this, and he just sat there, doing nothing and looking somewhere into the distance, into the horizon. His handsome face showed indifference, indifference and boredom.

Glass waves of the sea arched, ran onto the shore, splashed, hissed, ran forward, but rolled back and ran again.

Perseus slowly stood up, walked to the edge of the water and began to look at the shiny wet pebbles, covered and slightly moved by the waves. The pebbles, for all their general grayness, were different: they were light gray, they were dark gray, they were streaked with blue or white; There were both orange and red. Among the variety of colors, there were strange shapes, reminiscent of animal figures or human faces.

The young man, sitting down, picked up one of these stones and began to look at it. Here is a small hole that resembles an eye, and next to it is a tubercle that resembles a nose. At the bottom is what looks like a mouth. The pebble was smooth, gray, and slightly cool from the sea water. After turning it a little more in his hands, Perseus picked it up and threw it into the sea.

— Gurg..." the stone that fell into the water said dully and slowly sank to the bottom. The small circles that appeared on the surface of the sea soon disappeared.

Perseus picked up another stone. It was not like the previous one - it was smooth, irregularly ellipsoidal and also cool.

- "Gurg..." - this pebble also said dully, also touching the surface of the sea and also sinking to the bottom.

And the third, and fourth, and subsequent pebbles fell into the water, making a dull sound and raising small splashes.

Perseus was so carried away by this game that he began to throw pebbles further and further into the water. His beautiful tanned body tensed, and the work of strong, bulging muscles became visible. He became passionate and impatient. The stones fell further and further into the sea.

-Have you seen it? - he asked joyfully, looking back at the woman.

Medusa just smiled and thought: “After all, he’s still a boy.”

She looked at herself carefully and for a long time in the mirror today, lying on the shore. Little did she know that the mirror was also looking at her. It loved the young, the beautiful, and lied if it didn’t like someone. It was afraid of the woman looking into it: it was afraid of her heavy, murderous gaze, of her heavy beauty, so it shrank and distorted the image.

- Gurgle... gurgle... gurgle... - Stones fell and fell into the sea. Perseus tried to throw them further, and his tanned body tensed. Medusa looked at him and admired his young body, his muscles and movements. She felt and knew something that Perseus had not yet thought about and did not know: he would soon grow cold and be burdened by her love. And where there is no love, there is no life. And time, which loves the young so much, will become indifferent and even irritable towards her. She began to notice that every moment she was losing her beauty. And the mirror given by Athena showed this. She thought, still looking in the mirror, but somehow absentmindedly and distantly.

— Oh, gods! Why did you make me mortal? — the woman thought with despair once again. - “Only death can stop withering and leave me eternal youth.”

Medusa took the mirror away from her face, which quietly and sighed with relief.

The stones thrown by Perseus into the water could no longer fly far, and now fell in the same place. The young man became annoyed by this, and soon he was tired of this activity. He walked along the shore, looking for something else to do, but found nothing, and again went up to the statues and began to wander among them, absentmindedly examining them. Running his hand over one, he suddenly asked:

- Is there anyone you especially remember?

- There is a wanderer next to you.

Perseus looked at the gray figure standing next to him.

- He had blue eyes. He told me a lot about other countries, about miracles, about other people. I could listen to him for a long time: I was interested in him... He also stayed...

Medusa lay motionless, holding a mirror in her hand. She looked at him again and was struck by the contrast: Perseus was young, fresh, and she was fading. She began to examine herself even more carefully, finding more and more small wrinkles: here in the corners of her eyes, and here near her lips. She felt uncomfortable.

— Old age is terrible,” she thought irritably, and once again quickly and angrily looked into the mirror with her deadly gaze. The mirror was so frightened that it could not stand it and cracked.

- Jing! - Each of the fragments reflected her face, distorted with anger.

— Maybe it’s better this way...” - she thought and threw far away the broken mirror, which, when it fell, screamed piercingly in a dying glass voice.

- Jiiiiin!

But this didn’t make it any easier. A cloudy, black discontent rose from somewhere inside the body and was reflected on the face. The hair-snake also felt this and hissed in displeasure.

— Perseus,” she turned to him, “do you love me?”

She wanted to look into his eyes so much that she could hardly restrain herself.

Something in her voice made him stop and be wary. He stood among the statues and even leaned against one of them.

— I love you,” he said.

— But I don’t love you,” she said angrily, looking into the sand, and her snake-like hair suddenly began to flutter, “I’m tired of you.”

- Why are you doing this? - It became difficult for him to breathe, and an uncontrollable crazy fire broke out inside him.

- I don’t love you! - she screamed, and her face was greatly distorted with anger and cruelty. — Do you want to be one of them and stay here forever?!

- No!

-Then kill me! — She still didn’t look at him, but she really wanted to look into his eyes.

He ​​still stood hesitantly and did not understand the reason for her anger.

-You can't even do that! There's nothing you can do! You're a bad lover too!

Blood rushed to his face and clouded his mind. “Old woman,” suddenly flashed through his head. Everything inside him clenched and tensed.

- Farewell, my love! - He raised his sword and swung it with a practiced movement. The sword made a semicircle and did not even stop. The head bounced off the body. The snakes, trying to hiss for the last time, only opened their pink mouths, showing white poisonous fangs, drooped and dangled with long limp ropes.

He ​​lowered his sword.

— That’s it...”

The tension that had lasted so long since their meeting subsided. There was emptiness and weakness inside.

— That’s all...” he said, barely audible, with just his dry lips.

A strong wind suddenly blew from the sea, and the sky was covered with gray heavy clouds. Somewhere in the distance, where the sea merges with the sky, it became dark from low black clouds; booming thunder rumbled and yellow-sparkling lightning beat crookedly as it approached.

— It’s cold... very cold... it hurts... it hurts a lot...”

Her headless body lay on the sand, gray from the gray sky. It was still beautiful: the smooth and shiny skin in the bright light of the lightning was soft and velvety. And her head lay on the shore of her beloved sea, and the waves hissed menacingly, trying to reach her and calling: “Live, live!!! Fight, fight!!! Don't give up!!! Love!!!"

But she no longer heard it. The eyes looked sad and tired - the sparkle of life had disappeared from them. A tear rolled down my cheek. Everything that she now lived and remembered: love, the smell of her beloved, his body, his passion - died down and died forever. The dim pupil, fading, tried in vain to find something in the distance.

The cold wind brought the freshness of salt water. The sky lit up with bright flashes, and new threatening rumbles were heard. Another flash flashed, another peal thundered, and the young man’s face began to be covered with heavy drops, and then streams of gray rain.

Perseus grabbed his head tightly by the hair—the snakes were no longer hissing—and stuffed it into his shoulder bag, throwing the strap over his shoulder. Then, slowly, he splashed along the edge of the deserted cold shore.

- That's it! - Raising his head up, he shouted to the gods. Drops of rain flowed down his beautiful and youthful face, so similar to tears.

In response, lightning flashed somewhere very close to him, tearing the sky, and thunder rumbled so loudly that the statues of warriors shook and began to fall to the ground, collapsing. The voices of the stone warriors began to be heard:

- We curse!!! We curse! We curse...

Lead-gray, muddy, white-fringed waves, hissing and rushing, touched his feet and, also hissing, timidly slid into the sea. The cold, heavy rain poured and poured, forever destroying his footprints in the sand, the headless body of the woman, their love and memory, and consigning it all to oblivion.

The dark moving silhouette of the hero in the gray shroud of rain became smaller and smaller until it turned into a dot, and soon disappeared completely, becoming a legend.

Author's e-mail: olegigor07@rambler.ru