Today the new gods have come. Flowered floats, blatting bands, drum-masters, a twirl of glinted arms. The tribes and their gods gather at the edge of town, forming up in parade, jostling and shoving their way into line. Band instruments tune up, while those de-tune who value sincerity above harmony.
Finally they come toward me, scuffles having determined the order of march. The first band comes by the reviewing stand playing some barbarian off-tune, and then a float carrying a tribal god, in this case the tottering image of a fierce old man, thunderbolt in hand.
I’m waiting for the whole dreary march-past to be over; smiling, saluting the Pantheon’s new recruits as they go by one by one.
But now, halfway through, something is wrong. One of the gods on its float, a giant chained gorgon with hair made of snakes, is bursting its restraints, descending on gods on nearby floats, devouring or destroying them, scattering band members or clutching them to death. The procession wavers as others hear the terror, as it spreads.
[To be continued ….]
Memorable Fancies 
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