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Sunset at Delphi

29 Jun, 2022

Love Stories Written by: Mystery Writer
Artist : Teodora Dimitrova
Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes

met Aglaia on my first day in Delphi. She waited for me with open arms in the bus stop overlooking the panoramic valley. We’d seen each other in Athens a few years back and the tour she gave me of the Acropolis was still chiselled into my mind. We passed several seemingly identical pillars and she explained each one’s significance in exquisite detail. She plucked obscure facts from her mind as easily as olives from trees. She’d always had a knack for it. Her piercing green eyes were bursting with passion whenever she spoke about the Ancient Greeks. Forever excited, she loved to tell me stories: pertinent legends, or whimsical myths.

It’s a shame that most Greek stories end in tragedy.

he welcomed me with a warm embrace and a kiss on both cheeks. Even though I could see her mouth in front of me, smiling broadly, the warmth of her lips lingered on my cheeks.

“I’ve missed you,” I said. “How have you been?”

She chuckled lightly, brushed her mousy fringe away from her eyes and said, “Fine. I’ve been great!”

She wore a blue dress that brushed against her legs, just below the knees. Even though summer was over, the sun seemed to shine for her that day.

“That’s good,” I said, mulling over why she hadn’t asked me back. Do I just reply anyway?

She guided me to a little wall that ran along the top of the valley, separating the town from a steep drop down the hillside.

“So which way is the oracle from here?” I asked, gazing into the distance.

She pointed left. “Past the other side of town,” she said. “We’ll go there tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Great,” I said. “Looking forward to it.”

She jabbed at my ribs playfully, a mannerism I’d almost forgotten. As her hand touched my body, I realised she was my Achilles’ heel.

hen we last saw each other in Athens, I wanted to tell her how I felt about her but I couldn’t do it. I wanted to say it in Greek; she loved the intricacies of language. It would’ve been so romantic. I wanted to whisk her away somewhere quiet, away from the crowds; in front of the Agora, would’ve been nice.

I just didn’t have the balls. And as it happens, I still haven’t learnt Greek. Maybe I should just do it the old fashioned way?

“So how long are you in Greece?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Well,” I said, “I haven’t booked a return flight.” I tried to gauge her reaction before continuing. She looked a little surprised but otherwise unfazed. “I’ve just graduated, so I was thinking of maybe travelling around for a while. See where the wind takes me. You know, find myself type of thing.”

“Right,” she said. “And why start in Greece?”

“Where better to ponder the meaning of life than the land of all the great philosophers?”

I knew that would get a laugh out of her. Any joke about classical Greece was a sure-fire way to her heart. That’s when it hit me. Maybe I should say something mythological, I thought, like you’re my Eurydice and I’m your Orpheus, and I won’t look back, I promise.

On second thought, that’s way too cheesy. Even for me.

ur eyes met. It was as if she could read my mind—as if she was a higher being on another frequency, inextricably intertwined with me. This was the perfect moment. My heart thundered in my chest as I leant in. She hastily pulled away.

“What are you doing?” She asked. Her accent was a little stronger than before.

“I thought…”

She shook her head. Her smile was gone, no trace of it on her face.

“I knew this would happen,” she said. “I thought I got the message across last time. It’s been five minutes for god’s sake.”

I felt myself sinking, limbs growing heavier. I wanted to curl into a ball, to have her squeeze me tight and tell me everything was going to be okay.

How have I ruined it so quickly?


“… No.”

She turned away, grabbing her small backpack and hauling it over her shoulder. I wracked my mind for ways to make her stay.

“I thought you could be my Ariadne,” I called after her. “I could be your Dionysus.”

She stopped and turned slightly. Her body was rigid.

“If I’m Ariadne, that makes you Theseus. You’ve been gone three years. What did you expect?”

She walked up a flight of stairs, took a left turn, and didn’t look back.

I never saw her again.

In that moment, I’d gotten closer to her than I’d ever been before. So tantalisingly close, yet so far. Forget Dionysus and Theseus. I was Icarus.

She was my sun.

About The Artist
Teodora Dimitrova

Teodora is a self-taught artist from Bulgaria. She has always believed her mission/purpose is to bring beauty to this world through her art. Her greatest inspiration is nature and all the shapes and colors created by the divine magic. In her work she aims to capture feelings, emotions, the beauty in a fraction of a moment that will take the viewer on a journey back in their inmost tender memories. Her dreamy paintings radiate light and joy.


Teodora aspires to create art in an aesthetically pleasing way that inspire and make others dream. She hopes that the positive energy that flows through her art will reach and enrich more creative souls.

About The Writer
Matt Leppington
Mystery Writer
Pen Name: Mystery Writer

We Love our Mystery writer....

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