Ariadne

by Jennifer Saint

“I took the baby to my husband, to show him what a perfect little miracle our joyless union had created.” There was a look in her eyes that made me lower my gaze, afraid to witness something so raw. “‘A girl,’ he said. ‘What am I to do with a girl? Cast it out upon a hillside; it is nothing but a pointless mouth to feed.’” Her face twisted. “They tore her from my arms even when I screamed. She cried and I screamed, but they carried her away, and I screamed more until the world went black around me. I did not wake for days; my baby was long dead on an empty hillside by then, but I heard her crying wherever I went, whatever I did. The crying only quieted when I climbed aboard that boat and came to Naxos. I pulled the oars myself, every stroke. When I reached this shore, it was the first happiness I had known, except for that one perfect moment when I held my child. I smiled so much I thought that my face would break in two.”