More from Justin in Malta 😉
She burned in the fires that consumed Greece like a red-fanged tide. She went there to see Athens and her Acropolis. I always used to call her my Cassandra.
Cassandra was the daughter of King Priam of Troy, she was cursed with the gift of prophecy. Why is that a curse? Because the gods ensured that although her prophecies were always true, no one would believe her.
And my own Cassandra was the most intelligent woman I had ever met. But she was cursed with a character so meek she could never get her thoughts heard.
I heard them. I was the only man alive privileged enough to hear her speak of Ancient Greek poetry and Shakespeare’s gender politics or how the dialectic of history has given us, in equal measure, pure evil and true goodness. She was only twenty-five, my Cassandra, yet she had the wisdom of something ancient.
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