Without him here, I still cultivated the vegetables. I pounded barley between stones to bake bread. I swept the marble floors until they shone. I was not Minos’ captive daughter; I was not Cinyras’ trade for copper; nor was I Theseus’ diversion between heroic feats of glory. Somehow I had survived them all, and here I was, free of them at last. My life was before me, like one of the seeds that lay curled in my palm to sow. My destiny had never been my own until I left Crete and seized it for myself.
