TE16 Turkish Delight

Medusa with scales. Deafening hisses rise from the snakes in her hair, anyone who meets Medusa’s gaze are petrified by Athena’s curse.” Perhaps that was our last meeting. I never received word from her ever again. I even went to where her cabin was at the Iğneada Forests. But either I couldn’t find where it was or it had never existed there. At the national park entrance, the guards told me that it was forbidden to build cabins to the forest and looked at me strangely. My skeptical mind started telling me that there had never existed such a person. I couldn’t make sense. Returning home, I looked for a memento of hers in the closets, in the boxes. Why didn’t she have a photo or a written record with me? It was only I who knew her, and I had no other proof other than the leftovers of a jar full of herbal mixture. Particles that resembled gold dust glittered in the jar. She had persuaded me that night. Medusa was not coming to life or anything. It was just that I had let myself carried away by this study too much, and my mind had disintegrated into pieces. One of these pieces believed it was her. This was a good thing for my study, for I had written the entire book thanks to her, by her words, and sent to the publisher. It was as if my friend had solved the conflict between my personalities. “When Perseus cut my head off by looking into my image from his shiny shield, he used his shield as amirror. It was Perseus who went down the history as the hero. However, if it weren’t for Hermes’ winged sandals, he couldn’t have come to Hyperborea, if it weren’t for Hades’ cap of invisibility, he couldn’t have come near me, and if it weren’t for Athena’s shiny shield, he could have never killed me. In reality, Perseus’ weapon was a mirror and his heroism story was some kind of a collaboration of gods and goddesses.” 255