Stories

Midlife crises a short story by Lacy Muircastle

aphrodite

It’d been simply mind blowing sex.  Wild, tempestuous, no strings attached.  Or that’s what I’d thought.  But you know what thought did, don’t you?

She stood in the middle of my office looking like a petulant child, Aphrodite.  My paramour, my Greek goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, and now it would seem as with the goddess she was named after, of procreation too. I should have known better than to get involved with someone so young. Or anyone for that matter.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?”  My head pounded at my temples, as if Thor was preparing for an explosive storm.  I slumped back in my chair.

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