Modern Goddess: Trapped by Thor (Book One) Read Online Free Page A

his
lips.
    He turned on his heel and left – not
before Mjollnir gently struck the door frame and caused a massive
crack to appear from the tiny impact.
    He didn’t turn around to say sorry. He was
Thor. He half-marched half-sauntered down the corridor, not before
he made quick and distasteful plans to meet up with the forest
bimbo later.
    I leaned out of my door – tiny fragments
of glass drifting down on me – staring at his back. My eyes
naturally narrowed and my mouth instinctively pressed together. If
I'd had something near me to throw, I would have pitched it at him.
That would, however, not be in my job description, nor would it be
a good idea. Thor tolerated me while I worked for the Integration
Office. He had to at least not kill me while I was in uniform. If
I, however, breached the rules or acted outside the confines of the
office, Thor could treat me however he liked. In here, I was an
official god immigration officer – out there I was just the goddess
of details. The great god of victory and lightning versus the
goddess of details would be a short and demoralizing
battle.
    I took a deep breath and tried to steady
myself. I glanced at the crack in my doorframe and tried to count
the fractures in the glass, then I tried to distinguish the exact
colors of the stains on my skirt. Letting myself sink into details
settled me down.
    “ Um, excuse me,” a small
voice said from behind me.
    I turned to stare down at a tiny
radish-like creature who was about half-a-foot tall.
    “ Yes?” I asked
politely.
    “ I do not mean to hurry
you,” it said in a high, but nonetheless earthy tone. “I have a
harvest to get to.”
    “ I see,” I said professionally. I
noted the detailed patterns on the toga the radish-god wore, and I
felt ready to press on with the day. Thor, for all he was worth,
could go hang. I only had to deal with him in the Immigration
Office, and our run-ins were usually short enough that I could not
bother about them.
    I tugged on my ink-stained blouse and led
the radish god into my office. I had a job to do. This radish god
had to get to a harvest.

Chapter 3
    I was tired. Though I was a goddess, I still
felt fatigue and weariness.
    I might not age like ordinary humans or
animals, but I shared their ability to get worn out.
    I decided, uncharacteristically, to pick
up take away on the way home. Though I loved to cook – as I
relished the sight of seeing tiny bubbles form and build in a
boiling pot of water, or that certain sound crackling hot oil makes
as freshly cut vegetables are thrown into it – today I didn't have
the energy.
    I decided the best thing was pizza, a
small tub of boysenberry-swirl ice cream, and a film. Though I
preferred a good book or a meteorological assessment as a wind-down
from work, a movie would do. Anything that contained information
set me at peace. Though I couldn't get pulled into the story of a
movie – the colors, and shapes, and forms could pull me in,
instead.
    I walked along the street, my simple
handbag held primly before me. As I walked, I watched the people. I
saw what they were wearing, how they were moving, and noted each
and every expression. I also watched the buildings, the sky, and
street. There was always more to note. The harder you looked at
something, the more the details of its reality unfolded, and the
more that occurred, the realer it became – and in turn, the realer
I became along with it.
    I patted a hand against my tight bun and
let a smile spread across my lips. I may not have had the power of
Thor, nor the victory, nor the smile – but what I had was still
divine. At the end of the day – or the era, or time, or however you
wanted to put it – divinity was all equal. It might express itself
differently, but there was something germane to all gods – they are
all god-like, all divine, all supreme.
    Thor could keep the hammer and golden hair,
and I'd keep the facts and figures. Oh, and the cottage with the
cat and roses.
    As I walked