As the boy-child grew I served as a slave in the household of Herakles. It was hard, watching him boast nightly as he tried to tear down what had take... a thousand years to build. He would come back from raids, women cowering at his feet, the loot of entire cities carelessly strewn about his ship. He was a vain man, bigger than any around him, mighty as a warrior, but as gifted with brains as the strap on my sandal. No, he had an animal cunning, but he was touchy of his honor, and cared little. Walking over to the desk her heels made a loud staccato clicking sound. She might have the option of a 4 x 4, sensible when one considered some of the locations that she had to meet clients. But once there she must be suited and booted. That meant uncomfortable heals, smart skirt and jacket. She placed the papers and her briefcase down, causing a small cloud of dust to swirl into the air, causing her to sneeze. Her loud ?Achoo? was accompanied by another sound. A bang. Turning around. More

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