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Literature
A Gorgon's Journal - Part 1
Day 1, Month 1, Year 1
I woke up today on a stone slab in the middle of a dark temple. I have no recollection of who I am or what I'm doing here. I don't feel it is amnesia, as I don't feel like I'm forgetting anything. It's weird...I have knowledge of this world despite having no memory of anything else. I know what the animals are called, what a tree is, what a plant is...I know how to talk, read, and write, and yet it's as if I suddenly dropped out of the sky and into this temple just a few hours ago.
I also have snakes for hair. It's not as bothersome as one would think, having live creatures living on your head. For the most part
Literature
What are We Doing in this Garden?
It had been quite a while since Jenny had been turned into a statue. Ever since that fateful day of jogging in the park, Jenny just stood there as a motionless figure in the young gorgon’s garden. Jenny had grown to accept her fate, and many more flowers had been added to the garden since the day she was turned to stone. She also became quite fond of Gretta, the now six year old gorgon who transformed her. Gretta took very good care of her garden and Jenny, and Jenny enjoyed seeing Gretta happily work so hard at it. Still, Jenny did feel pretty lonely from time to time.
One day, Gretta and her mother went to the beach, and
Literature
Garden of the gorgon
The first of the women with this stone garden seemed somewhat innocent, a peasant style neckline blouse framed a slender form, held up by the swell of a curved and healthy physique. Poofy sleeves start below the shoulders and end at the elbows leaving the delicate lines of her shoulders and neck bare though now those shoulders are pale, almost white marble. The shoulder length but straight hair might have been coloured but now looked as pale as the stone that made the rest of her. One might wonder at first if someone had dressed a statue, the pale cream of the blouse contrasting with a wide leather belt studded with tiny bronze spiders that cinched her waist showing a beautiful figure of a woman though now rendered immobile. Her eyes now held no hint of colour or darker spot but her face possessed of an every woman sort of beauty as if someone might see someone like her in any village with a delicate nose above lips pursed in a tiny ‘o’ of surprise and her eyes looked a little wide
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I've notice that for a lot of years that the stories of petrification had been through the eyes of the reader or behind the eyes of the victims. But what about behind the eyes of the perpetrator or in this case being a Gorgon?
Mature
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this brings up a rather lovely perspective of Medusa's life. You can plant the most beautiful flowers but throughout the day you won't really think about the garden. so it's interesting that Medusa keeps herself interested in it by decorating it with the occasional victim. So yeah, that alone makes me kinda love this submission 
good work!
good work!