It was a warm Greek evening, he found his love in the cypress labyrinth. There she was, as still as the statue of Aphrodite just a little way off. Her alabaster skin, soft and creamy in the moon's beams.

He was strolling in the labyrinth, before his nightcap. He could not help but look upon her and pause in his journey.

She looked just a little too long, as their eyes met.  She saw her future, as she ran her tongue over her lips.

He saw his past flash before his eyes, as Medusa’s stare, turned him to stone.