I like it too... love the narration
I would love to read more of this... (I really loved mythology a few years back although now its just something I enjoy.)
Hey...we almost have the same general interests...(if yours is up to date) except I prefer watching TV than movies. I don't watch movies on cd's/cinema...
I should post some of my stories too, but mine are more boring and longer, and incomplete.
Part III
We're both in the apartment, Julie and I, trying to recreate the illusion of something relatively clean, or at least to the point where we can see the floor. I really don't know where this sudden urge to tidy has come from, but it's something to do - exercise for my restless hands - so I do it. My companion doesn't seem to mind helping. I suppose she thinks this is quality girl time.
I still have trouble understanding Julie. She peers through a lock of stray hair, and smiles at me as if we're destined to be best friends until Helios the Sun finally swallows this peculiar ball of rock for all time. But... she grates on my nerves, with her determined extroversion and schoolgirl grin. She's almost naive in her cheerfulness. Suddenly she looks up, staring across the room. Something has caught her attention. "Whoa!" she exclaims. "Where'd you get that?"
She has noticed my bow. Long ago, I propped it against a wall even though I've taken dismal care of it, it has not suffered any disrepair. It's actually quite beautiful when I think about it, each curve perfectly carved for maximum accuracy and force. Back in the days when I used it regularly - they're long past now - it had felt like part of me, its curves almost and echo of my own body. Now all that remains is neglect.
"This is amazing!" Julie squeals with excitement. She crosses the room and reaches forward, but something makes her hesitate before actually lifting the bow from its lonely place. She turns to me. "Is it yours?"
I might as well be honest, no matter how hard I am trying to appear disinterested. A curt nod ought to be enough.
"You're an archer?"
"I was." I stroke the bow in her hands as I might a baby animal. "A long time ago."
"Rex and I sometimes play squash." There is a sentimental glint in her eye.
"Julie..." There's something she really ought to be told.
"I know," she says, cutting me short. "I understand he's old enough to be my father..."
(Quite a bit older, actually.)
"...And how this must be so strange to you..."
(I'm used to it. It's not like you're the first.)
"But we are happy together. Honestly, he just doesn't seem that old. You get what I'm saying, don't you, Jill?"
(Sure, but you don't know about...)
"WHERE IS HE?"
Oh, great. I'd recognise that enraged bellow anywhere. It's the kind of noise that shakes the earth, rattles bones, and runs through your back like a javelin. Julie stops, eyes wide with terror, and covers her ears. Her yellow-olive complexion has turned the colour of rotten cream.
I also wish that i could edit my last post
We all find ourselves wishing that sometimes. But anyway...
continued...
My stepmother has that effect on people. Julie's fingers have slackened with shock, and she drops my bow with a sharp wooden crash onto the floor. I lift it up - at least it is not damaged - and risk a glance through the open window.
"WHERE IS HE?" Of all the immortals, Hera - it seems - has changed the least. A dark sleeveless dress reaches down to her ankles, and she still keeps her hair tied in a matron's bun. She is older than Zeus, but looks much younger, with flawless ivory skin and hair so black it's as if Chaos himself has been tied into those springy curls.
I signal for Julie to keep well hidden, and watch as Hera stands on the dusty road just a few steps away from Doc's front porch. A gust of wind snatches the hem of her dress, and a cloud of dark hair has escaped from its pins. Her eyes are as intent as a hawk's. Wherever my father is, he'd better watch out, but she doesn't seem to have spotted him yet.
Somebody steps through the front door. “Stay back,” I hiss through my teeth.
It’s Doc Jenkins. “Can I…?” he starts to say, but Hera brushes him aside like a speck of dust from her shoulder. Falling backwards onto the road, Doc blinks and shakes his head in bewilderment. He’s gotten off lightly.
If Hera sees us here, we might not be so lucky.
Slinging my arrows over my back and hoisting my bow with one hand, I attach myself tightly to Julie’s wrist with the other. “Come with me.” My voice is lowered to an urgent whisper. Julie nods, still pale and speechless.
Her legs have fared worse than her vocal chords. I practically have to drag her across the floor towards the stairs. As we make a dash for the ground floor, she trips on a step and almost falls. I spin around to catch her. I can see the whites all around her eyes, flecked with slender lines of pink and yellow.
“Who’s that?” She appears to have rediscovered the art of speech. But there is no time for a reply - the walls are already beginning to shake. Without a pause, I seize her hand again and tug her down the rest of the way.
Julie reaches the bar as if in a trance, and I find Apollo crouching with his back against the wood. The sound of his teeth grinding is overpowered by the rattle of glass on a shelf behind him. I can see one bottle inch towards the edge and watch, captivated, until it falls with a crash onto the floor. Beside me, Julie is jumping at even the slightest unexpected noise.
I've no time for my twin's theatrics. He never used to be such a coward. "Where's Dad?" I shout.
He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He doesn't know, does he? And neither do I. I risk a glance around me, but the pub is empty from end to end. I would certainly notice any sign of Zeus.
"Get up!" I force Apollo to his feet, and hope that it hurts him. Is this really my same brother, who could bring down a city with a single arrow? Pathetic, but there just isn't time! "Take Julie out the back, before this whole place topples."
Apollo has Julie by the hand, and yet I'm still having to push them towards the back exit. We're out of sight of most windows - but I certainly wouldn't call us safe. Frustration boils inside my throat. It's a struggle to hold in a rock shattering scream of my own. "Go!" As my brother disappears from view, taking my father's girlfriend with him, I return my attention to the main doors. My jaw is clenched, tight and grim.
There is a fierce wind outside, pushing tiny round shrubs past my feet and dust into my eyes. I can barely see past the tangled strands of my own hair. Hera's face has never been easy to banish from my memory, but now it is clearer than it has ever been before. Even the dust storm seems reluctant to pass her way. Cold anger is strong in her eyes, which tense into a narrow glare.
“I see,” she says. “So this is why he chose to come here.”
I’m not sure what to make of her words. But at least I’ve distracted her long enough for the wind to ease.
Venom shoots from her like a snake. “What did he tell you, hm? Does he think he can brush me off like he’s shooing a fly? Does he think after all this time that I haven’t the intelligence to know? Or did he just send another one of his bastards because he’s too much of a coward to face me himself?”
Given the circumstances, I’d opt for any one of these. Zeus the cloud shaker is not exactly high on my list of favourites, either.
“Where is he, Artemis?”
“Not with me.”
She takes a step forward, now so close to me that I can hear the hem of her dress flapping against itself. Behind me, there is a cry of disbelief and horror. It takes me a fraction longer to remember to look for Doc’s pub.
The walls appear to shake in slow motion, shock waves pushing ripples along the surface. But when they feel, the bricks fall inward with barely more than a soft rumble. The crashing noise comes later, as stone collides with stone, and finally the whole building folds. Like a weak old man whose knees can no longer hold him upright.
And Doc Jenkins watches on all fours. His face is ash-grey, and his jaw hangs open in spite of the billowing dust. He turns slowly, but his eyes look through Hera and me as if we are not something he is ready to see
Okay, so it's been a while. I'm determined to get to the end of this thing! 
My bow tenses with the creak of soft timber, which - I’ve always thought - sounds like a forest whispering. I draw back the string as far as the slender wood will allow it to stretch. Somewhere deep in my muscles is the memory of how to fit a hunter’s arrow, how to feel its moods, how to match them to my movements so closely that bow and arrow are transformed into an extension of my own body. Its curves become a mirror of my own, until that the weapon and I are locked into the same smooth dance.
Even after all this time. I think the mortals around here say it’s just like riding a bicycle. And I am just as surprised as any other to find that my arrow is pointed at Hera.
My stepmother laughs. It is not a pleasant sound. Her laughter has always reminded me of Furies’ bells. “Are you going to shoot me now?” she mocks.
“If I have to.”
To be honest, I’m not sure what I expect to do. Only one thing is certain. Apollo and I won’t be able to stay here, regardless of how this ends. But my brother and Julie might have at least some chance of escape, as long as I can keep Hera distracted. The wind is already lessening. As far as I know, at least she no longer has the power to transform herself into some kind of terrible beast.
As far as I know…
Been meaning to finish this for quite some time.
The world is eerily still as Doc Jenkins staggers to his feet. Where he finds the strength, I cannot possibly say. Even as he stands, he sways slightly -almost imperceptibly - on trembling legs. “My bar…” he gasps. He turns towards me, but there’s nothing I can find to say.
Behind him, someone is emerging around the corner of the rubble. Julie is badly shaken, and the blue and yellow smear of a bruise is starting to form just below her left shoulder. Apollo follows close behind her. His gaze is also fixed on Hera’s wreckage, but he doesn’t seem at all surprised.
“Now what?” he whispers as soon as he reaches me.
I offer him a barely visible shrug - more of a twitch, really - that neither of the mortals would have seen. “I guess we’ll just have to leave.”
A sudden cry from Julie snatches our attention. Close to panic, she rushes from one end of Doc’s fallen pub to the other. “Rex!” she exclaims. “Where’s Rex? He did manage to get out? Didn’t he?”
I decide not to tell her any details. It would do no good to relate how Zeus stood, and placed a muscular arm around Hera’s shoulder. Or how before Julie and Apollo arrived, the cloud shaker and his wife had already strode away beyond my sight, no doubt to patch up their differences in their own special way. There’s no softening the blow when it comes to explaining this to his legions of one-time girlfriends.
“Gone,” I say.
“Gone?” Julie’s dark eyes stare into mine, searching desperately for even the faintest signs of untruth. I have none to offer.
“Trust me.” I know these are the last words I will ever say to her, so I suppose I should make them good. “You’re better off without him.”
THE
END
(Finally)