Her spindle moved slowly at
times, then rapidly. Lachesis, bent forward, examining the
thread, comparing its length to an unseen measuring stick.
"Right about there, sister dear. Oh, give him another inch. No
harm done. He is a handsome young man."
Atropos looked at the scissors handed her, sighed. "I would it
were otherwise, young man. But we are duty bound. Nothing can
stay us from our labor."
Wide-eyed he stood as the scissors opened, approached the
thread. "Wait! Zeus, Zeus, He wants you. You must cease
immediately. He eagerly awaits your company."
"Zeus! Olympus! Parties! Dancing! He wants us. Child, you can't
mean it. 'Twas he who banished us to this cold, dank cave. And
now he wishes our return? Well, he's plainly drunk too much of
that nectar. I knew it would eventually get to him. Clotho, have
you a thread for Zeus?"
"Oh, never. Well, I admit, I tried. After all, it wasn't at all
nice of him to send us here. Anyway, it kept unraveling."
"Lachesis, give the boy another foot or two. Oh, give him an
extra yard. Boy, we'll get dressed as soon as we've put away our
tools. Zeus wants to see us!"
"Eh, please, don't put away your tools. He is extremely
interested in your skills. You must bring them along."
"Learned to appreciate us, has he? My, how many eons has it
taken! Oh, very well."
He led the way and in due time they arrived at Olympus. "Wait
at the gate, I'll announce your coming." He smiled at their
activities.
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