Pretend for now that you could spend a day as some mythological creature. A pegasus or a fairy or a Medusa. What would you choose to be? Something powerful: a siren, perhaps? Something beautiful: a unicorn, perhaps? Something dangerous: a dragon, perhaps?

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “mythological.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

8 thoughts on “Mythological”

  1. Today I shall be a unicorn, spreading love and compassion to all I meet. I can just hear someone ask, “Was that a unicorn I just saw?”
    And I will respond, “Yes, I am a unicorn. I bet you thought I was lost many years ago. But as you can see, I’m not lost at all. I am right here with you and I will be with you from this day forward. I am quite magical, you know. But not in the way you think. I help you to find the magic that resides in you.”

  2. As a kid, I ran around the backyard, pretending I was a fairy that flitted between the flowers. My mother lovingly placed each one in a specific location so it was my duty to protect them. I didn’t read fairy myths until later and I still want to be one.

  3. There are no unicorns, she said,
    no dragons, werewolves, monsters, boohags,
    no boggarts, elves, or little people of any kind.
    These are only mythological beasts, from fairy tales;
    no such creatures walk this earth, now or ever.
    I nodded, and watched the bumblethunderbeast slink
    under her chair.

  4. I would be a genie in an ink bottle, and the person that liberates me by spilling a drop of ink would be granted one wish with the condition that the ink bottle be passed on when the wish is granted. I, in turn, would grant the wish and, unbeknownst to the person in possession of the ink bottle, take away any unwholesome condition that may be afflicting them. A wholesome body to enjoy the wish granted.

  5. Out in the straits, ships sail on in grey smoke: some with decks empty, some with men checking ropes, and one with a milling crowd taking their last glimpses. Each passing bow wave, rolling over a grey sea flecked with white, sighs on pebbles ,stretched out to muddy patches… the story continues here

  6. teeth elongated, muscles clenching and relaxing in fluid motion under the lone moon. Eyes shining by the light of Artemis. Canine reflexes running for great lengths down the long stretch bringing me to hills where I can sing my great desire for the virgin goddess with a well timed howl.

  7. Most mythological tales are black and white. There is good and evil. Good fairies , white or pink, and frail. Bad ones, black and powerful. Despite all the power and machinations , the good wins and we leave with a smug satisfied smile on our faces .
    Hindu mythology presents an epic -Mahabharata, which throws all such presumptions to the winds .

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