I, Narcissus, Am All In on the Green Reflecting Pool
I'm getting a second chance in Washington, DC
Long ago I peered into a pool of water and fell in love with my own reflection. I was, after all, the most beautiful man in the world. Little did I know that I’d been cursed by Nemesis, goddess of revenge, for ignoring the men and women infatuated with me. She made it so whomever I loved could never love me back. Naturally, the reflection in the pool couldn’t love me, and I was distraught.
At that point I turned into a daffodil. But now, millennia later, I find myself back in human form—this time in Washington, DC, with its Mount Olympus vibe and phallus-shaped temples poking the heavens. Is Nemesis giving me a second chance?
I come to a giant pool and, forgetting my earlier trauma, peer into the water. Luckily, it’s clouded with globs of green and flecks of blue, so no reflection. Crisis averted.
I wonder what’s brought me to this time, and this place. I seek answers from other mortals around the pool. They are laughing about a “no-bid swimming pool contractor,” scooping up blue flakes, and pointing tiny, seemingly harmless weapons at each other. Several of them compliment my attire—a figure-hugging yet tasteful tunic—and wish me “Happy Pride Month.”
It’s all so confusing. But in the ensuing days I learn much from my fellow mortals—in particular, how the gods of Washington display the very traits that got me in so much trouble. To wit:
They declare their talents and achievements superior to all. “This was highly sophisticated material... that could last for 100 years, applied by very talented people, many of whom came from the Great State of Oklahoma, where I won 77 out of 77 Counties, THREE TIMES, the only President to ever do so.”
They make up stories to burnish their image. “The Reflecting Pool water is crystal clear, and our National Park Service team is now vacuuming up the dead algae resting on the bottom of some parts of the Reflecting Pool—just like the destroyed Iranian Navy resting on the bottom of the Persian Gulf.”
They find others to blame for their purported mistakes. “We’ve had some real problems with Vandalism at the beautiful Reflecting Pool…Who would do such a thing? These are very serious crimes having to do with the destruction of National Monuments. Years in jail!”
I hear the mortals bemoan a “personality disorder” and warn of consequences for excessive self-love. But what consequences could there be? The days of condemning sinners to eternal torment or turning them into flowers are long gone.
Still, these gods’ magic is wearing thin; discontent blooms like algae across the land. Out of character for me, but I have to admire these people defying their rulers. In the battles sure to come, I’ll be rooting for my fellow mortals.
Jennifer Thomas is a speculative fiction writer and occasional New Liberator contributor. You can read some of her stories at jenniferthomas.net.
Perfection.