It happened so quickly. One minute I was plucking the flower, and the next I was in his chariot immersed in darkness. I struggled to wrench myself free from his grasp and run away. I twisted as far as I could, hoping to see mother chasing after me. But ahead of me, behind me, on either side of me, everywhere I looked, all I could see was darkness.
Tamara Agha-Jaffar, A Pomegranate and the Maiden
demeter-and-persephone, historical-fiction, mythic-fiction, retelling