Short Story: The Rockery

Author wishes to remain anonymous

It always shocked her each time a new man got close enough to see her true self and froze at the sight.  Their faces would twist in fear and their hearts turn to stone as all love for her faded from their minds.  Just one look was all it took, one curious flick of the eyes beneath the civilized mask she wore, and they would never again want to kiss her, hold her, or make love to her... 

As Medusa wandered alone among the crowd of beautiful, handsome, stone men, she let herself brush a fingertip over a cold cheekbone or look into the eyes of a face twisted in terror.  Their rigor-mortis bodies would not age, and the memories of them in Medusa’s heart would never be tainted by bitterness…  But it was so cold here, so barren, so terribly lonely, and she knew more would come by land and sea to this frozen wasteland – and she would fall in love over again with every single man, her heart breaking once more with each new statue that was added to her bleak garden.

Based on chapter XV of Bulfinch's Mythology.  See here for online text: www.sacred-texts.com/cla/bulf/index.htm