PROMPT: write a story titled 'Circe'

Only weak, fearful gods would imprison a goddess on an island of solitude, Circe seethed, glaring heavenwards where she knew the almighty and oh-so-great Zeus would be residing at the throne of Olympus.

Collapsing down onto a grassy tuft, she sighed heavily.

"Whatever is the matter, Circe, darling?" A nymph, graceful yet lacking brain cells, drifted over to the angered goddess.

"I'm stranded here, you imbecile." Circe scowled and flicked her wrist, sending the nymph away with a gush of cold, bitter wind.

Being a goddess of sorcery had its advantages, but her magic wouldn't save her from this godforsaken island – nor would it save her from the ignorance of the nymphs she was cursed with having to live with. Well, Hera called it a gift – of course female companionship is a gift, child – though Circe had barely been on the island half a day and the nymphs were already irritating her.

It's not that the nymphs meant to anger the goddess, they merely worsened her situation without realising it. Circe was trapped and surrounded by nature-girls who couldn't ever possibly begin to understand the anguish she was suffering.

In Circe's trial, just two moons before, Zeus had proclaimed the goddess a danger to the mortal world. Not even transforming herself into an elegant young woman had swayed his opinion on the matter, a shame, really. Everyone knows Zeus has a weakness for young women who've yet to have their innocence torn away from them.

Perhaps Hera was behind Zeus' blindness to Circe's new look. It certainly seemed that way when the goddess of marriage herself delivered Circe to the island. The nymphs were a gift, while keeping Hera's heart safe from Zeus' infidelity. A win-win situation for Hera; while Circe lost nearly everything.

Of course, she still had her life. She wasn't sentenced to the Underworld to keep Persephone company while Hades raged at Zeus – no, the island was preferable to even that.

In half-boredom, Circe raised her slim palm up before her and muttered an ancient incantation – aiming to summon Vision to create a portal into the mortal world; where else is one supposed to find entertainment on an abandoned island?

The mirage-like window flickered to life, allowing her just a moment's glimpse into household drama in Athens. A faint smile found Circe's downturned lips, until the image dissolved into thin air, chased away by the sea's rising mist.

Standing, Circe drifted as close to the edge of the cliff as she dared. There was only one way in which she would be able to escape this hell of solitude; for someone to fall in love with her and stay with her. Yet the nymphs were all female, and no mortal travellers had ever dared these waters in the history of the gods.

Out of the mist, a sail rose up, cutting through the fine, blue vapour seamlessly as a ship near the shores of Circe's island.

That faint smile settled on her face again, though it was twisted with cruel malice this time.

Perhaps there is hope of having a little fun after all.

(518 words)