A Trap

“A trap?”

“A trap.”

High above the city, legs dangling over the edge of the skyscraper, Destiny considered the proposal. Her older sisters, Lust and Desire, had appeared just as she was feasting on the poor fortune of a young woman born to a traditional family in an underdeveloped country, her parents arranging a marriage to a miserable old man in exchange for a business opportunity. The misery, as always, was succulent flavouring to the meal.

She still wore the garb of the girl, a long, flowing, thin garment, brightly coloured. Within her authority and power were many things, but the clothes that appeared on her body were not counted among them. As with all things beyond her understanding, she accepted them. The universe, well designed and orchestrated by the one above her, had deemed her garb to be dictated by the mortals she touched. So be it. It mattered not in the grand scheme of things.

“We tried with his mother,” Desire rasped, smoke pouring from her mouth as she spoke, “but Justice interfered.”

“Something she excels at, of late,” said Destiny.

“So perhaps we should work together,” Lust said, hovering above, swirling slowly in an eddy.

“It has been tried,” Destiny said, “and failed. For the same reason you have stated. The watchful eye of Justice is on this mortal, and it rests not.”

“Ah, yes,” Desire agreed, “but what if Justice were preoccupied? What if Destiny dictated that a great number of injustices were done elsewhere, allowing for time to punish this mortal?”

Destiny’s mouth began to water at the thought of the culinary delight of what was being proposed. In years gone by she would frequently dole out bad fates indiscriminately. It was simple, and acceptable. But in recent years, fate was truncated. Too many powers, too many sisters, at play for things to be left to fate.

But this trap might begin to put things right. Perhaps if Justice were to learn her place, that would give more room for Destiny to expand her influence once again. This mortal was the key. If she and the twins could alter his fate, create some true misery in him, Justice would crawl into the hole she had emerged from and never return.

“Okay,” she agreed, “upon the morrow?”

“Tomorrow it is,” Lust nodded, “we will watch for your signal.”

“Then the trap shall be set and sprung, and the fate of the mortal shall be sealed. Let him marinate in his despair.”