Last Call at the Ambrosia by Ken Whitson, Golden Apple Cider

By Ken Whitson

Golden Apple Cider

Aphrodite swirls her near-empty tumbler of liquid starlight, one eye on Aeolus and his blasted sundial, the other on Freyja thirstily studying her now empty goblet of Golden Apple cider. 'Hey, sweetie! We probably don't have long before old blowhard over there,' head nodding toward the bar, 'decides to send one of his lesser winds into the last call chimes.'

Freyja waves her dry goblet toward their server. 'Whaddya think? Enough time for another round and a couple more stories?'

'Absolutely!' Aphrodite's eyes light up. 'Hey! Remember when Dionysus got Cupid so hammered he couldn't walk or fly? The little cherub kept trying to hover and just... sort of flopped over sideways.'

'I've never seen him so tipsy,' Freyja smiles, trying to remember how many she's had herself. 'That's the night Branwen bet him he couldn't hit a thousand sheep before sunup. Only... Cupid's wine-soaked ears heard "shepherds" instead.'

'Yes, by Zeus's glorious... um... beard!' blushed Aphrodite. 'He was barely able to stand, but his aim was still perfect. A thousand unlucky shepherds, all struck with the little guy's unique poison, and not a woman anywhere to be found.'

'Poor Pan,' Freyja wipes a joyful tear from her eye. 'I mean, he had to do something. "A shepherd distracted is a shepherd not watching his flock," he always said. But traveling around to all those mountain pastures like that must have been a pain? I wonder how many sheep he ended up... err... saving? Or, you know... whatever?'

'Ewww! And can you imagine having to teach all those unfortunate sods another use for their skilled shepherd's hands?' Aphrodite groans. 'He was quite put out about it too, as I recall. Kept muttering about how "this isn't in my job description" and "I'm a relationship counselor."'

'Though I heard he did eventually add it to his official duties,' adds Freyja, leaning forward. 'Something about comprehensive pastoral education.'

'I'm just glad the sheep survived for those first few weeks,' Aphrodite grins. 'Can you imagine a thousand shepherds, all suddenly discovering their own... um, charms? The mountains must have echoed with---'

'The music of Pan's flute!' Freyja cuts in. 'Very loud flute playing. All day. And all night.'

'Dionysus found the whole thing hilarious, of course,' Aphrodite rolls her eyes. 'Kept showing up to check on his progress---claiming Pan needed moral support.'

'Riiight,' Freyja says, dropping her voice and leaning closer. 'Speaking of moral support, have you heard about Eros and Psyche's latest spat?'

'No!' Aphrodite perks up, raising her hand to get a server's attention just as the last call chimes ring. 'But we're definitely going to need more drinks first.'

About the author

Ken is a retired civil servant who hasn't yet figured out what retirement means. When he's not consulting or otherwise unretiring, he enjoys crafting vivid, emotionally charged stories with unconventional themes. His work appeared previously in CafeLit Magazine, Bunker Squirrel Magazine, and in Dragon Soul Press's The Fear Doctor Anthology.