Medusa
clariposa
What if Madame Medusa had a bed of asparagus instead of a nest of serpents atop her head?
No blazing eyes or lolling tongue, even butter would only melt in her mouth to make hollandaise. One glance would not turn you to stone, rather you would dream of soufflé, omelette, vegetables wrapped in a slice of freshly carved ham. Instead of vipers’ tongues to keep at arms length, you’d be drawn to the crisp succulent tips on her curly green head.
And where her Gorgon blood spilt on fallow fields, vineyards would spring up to deliver a glass of Chardonnay for you to sip alongside your favourite Medusa meal.
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