And into the Final!

I am now in my...3rd or 4th Iron Writer Open final :-) Finally the judges liked my story enough for me to get through...but it was close.
My effort was called "How the Mighty"...
...and I have already written my entry for the Open Final, ready for Thursday. Who knows? I might get through to the Annual Final!

The elements : Artemis, A Dilettante, Jello Wrestling, A Moon Rock

How the Mighty

Zeus, her father, was at his easel trying to capture the right shade of cloud passing by his window in the Heavenly Deities Nursing Home. His was a large room, comparative with his once-held status as ruler of all Greek Gods and raper of any woman he took a fancy to, including her mother, Leto. She tip-toed over and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Oh, hell, Artemis! You startled me! You could’ve given me a heart attack. If I had a heart, that is.” Zeus put his paint brush down and hugged his daughter. “What brings you here to my humble abode in this retched place?”

“Can’t a daughter visit her father when she wishes?” She sat on the edge of his bed, testing its softness, and then jumped up and down on it to test the springs.

“I guess you can.” Zeus went back to his painting. “Mmm, I’m still not quite happy with the depth of my stratocumulus…”

“Painting again, father?” She patted the small package in her pocket making sure it was still there after jumping.

“Oh, you know. Being kicked off Mount Olympus doesn’t really make your immortality. When you’ve been a god, and a top god at that, where do you go? After a millennia of depression I’ve tried everything. Music, sculpture, painting, dancing, even tiddlywinks, but it seems I’m just an old dilettante, dabbling in a million things but getting nowhere, that initial interest dies…” Zeus put his brush down once more and turned to his daughter. “Hang on. I don’t understand. Why aren’t you shouting your head off at me, or pleading me to help you in some way? Where’s the ‘deus ex machina’, Artemis?”

She giggled and ran over to him, placing the small wrapped package into his hands.

“Happy Birthday, father,” she smiled, as his face beamed in happiness, brightening the room.

“You remembered?” He sat there for a moment in surprise and joy, the light around him

dimming only when his smiled had left. “I didn’t. No one else did, either.”

“But I did. I got you this.”

Zeus struggled with the wrapping until it fell to the floor in pieces.

“It’s a rock.”

“Yes!”

“Does it…does it symbolise anything? Am I a ‘rock’ in your life?”

She shook her head.

“It’s a special rock, father. It comes from the Moon.”

“Oh, thank you.” He threw it up a few times feeling its weight, then placed it on his easel. “I’ll put it with the other three thousand or so I got from Selene and Hecate earlier.”

“Well, to tell the truth, all the shops were closed and seeing as I was passing by the place…”

“Ah, the truth comes out…”

“But I remembered, father. At the last moment, yes, but I remembered!”

“Thank you. So, it’s my birthday! I think I’ll open up Youtube and watch something sleazy…jello wrestling, yes! It reminds me of the good old days, you know, with all those goddesses and mortal women…”

“Father! Please!”