The stranger lay there in bed. To the world he was no-one, he was nothing. Just some wanderer and as all wanderers do, he had travelled far. He had seen different parts of the world. Some things didn’t make that much sense. The way people acted, the way people perceived. They were all different. They all did different things. The world was global now and the stuff that made up myths and legends had also travelled with them. That was, myths and legends that were once localized had travelled and spread intercontinental.

The stranger lay in bed and the moon shone down through a window. It was not a full-moon, it was not an arch. It was somewhere in-between. And as the stranger lay in bed, he felt great pangs of despair within his heart. Yes, he had seen much of the world and seen many a different thing. The world was full of wonders and his eyes had been opened to some of it. He had only had the briefest of glimpses into the great miracles that occurred the world over. However, travelling so far throughout the world did deny himself the chance of ever settling down. Of sitting at a dinner table with a family and being surrounded by the ones who loved him. That was not the life that had been chosen for him. For him a different path had been etched out by the interweavings of fate and destiny.

And so as the moonlight shone down upon him. Deprived of the love of his fellow mortals, in the moonbeams came down the great Aphrodite. She stepped down, like something out of a masterful painting, her beauty was picturesque and crafted in the hearts and minds of men. In this apparition, she had straw hair, that curled around her bare breasts. Her breasts were full and buxom. Her bottom was a cherry in the way it curved, she was like a fruit. An apparition of nature itself. All of the beauty and sweetness of nature, thrown into the image of a woman.

As the man lacked love for his travels prevented him from gaining it thus. She showed him this. She rubbed his aching shoulders. She lay with him, a mortal. Then from the bounty of nature, she offered him all of the most beautiful things she could find. She poured milk down upon him, down his mouth so that he could soak up the flavours on his taste buds. That plain milk, though fresher than fresh. It was milk that had been taken straight from the udder of some magical beast. Then she drizzled honey over his tongue, the sweet taste of honey fulfilling all of his senses. Then she let him bite into almonds. Almonds, the seed of the fruit that was once again nourishment to his soul.

She was not the goddess of lust. Lust and love are two different things and what Aphrodite was attempting to show the wandering stranger was the love of nature. How had these things come to exist without some sort of divine presence to nurture them for the benefit of all mankind? She rubbed his shoulders, easing the pain of the trappings of loneliness that he had found himself in.

He felt loved. Loved by those around him and loved by the Gods themselves. For this, there is no equitable feeling. The feeling of being loved and nurtured.

Afterwards, the man’s loneliness eased somewhat and he felt at peace. He had not had this feeling for such a long time and for that he was grateful for the life that had been blessed to him.

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