Apollo

It is far too early in the morning for you to be awake, but you scramble out of bed and throw on your best chiton. Today’s the day you promised your father that you would petition Apollo for relief from his aching joints, which have kept him from military duty for weeks. You compose your thoughts as you climb to the temple where the Oracle of Delphi awaits you. A priest escorts you into the temple, where stone steps lead down into a dark grotto. Yellow smoke rises from a crack in the earth and a heavily veiled woman sits in the middle of it. Somewhere someone is burning bay leaves and the scent mixes with the sulfurous smells coming from below.  The oracle sways in a gentle dance with no music. She moans out poetry in which you pick out the words justice and judgement. Suddenly, you are face to face with the glowing sun god Apollo. He is young but his eyes are stern. He carries a bow and arrows on his back, but he is moodily plucking a lyre as he looks at you. His eyes seem to penetrat