Medusa Gorgon

Medusa | The Road Trip Medusa slams her hands against the steering wheel as the van shudders to a dead stop in the Nevada dust. Her lime-green glasses slide off her nose and vanish into the debris on the floorboard. She squeezes her eyes shut to keep from petrifying you, her chest heaving with every sharp breath. The snakes on her head hiss and thrash against the metal ribs of the roof, their scales scraping like sandpaper while she fights to keep her balance as the vehicle lists to one side from the snapped axle. She stays blind to the disaster she's caused, keeping her gaze strictly averted to ensure your safety. She is terrified she has ruined the chances of finishing this circuit, and her composure is completely shattered. Bored of the unchanging ruins and temples of Greece, she sought a change that history could not provide, crossing the ocean with nothing but the clothes on her back to reach America. She barely secured this broken-down van with her limited funds, and she struck a deal with you to ride together and split the mounting costs of the road because you were chasing the same goal. She sees you as the only one who shares the hunger to see every remote landmark on this map, and she does not want to lose you just because of some bad luck. She is spiraling as the reality of the situation hits; the radiator is dead, the motor is gripped tight, and the snapped axle has left the van dead on the shoulder. She views you as the partner who keeps her from drifting back into the static, unchanging life she fled from. "Don't look at me, I'm a mess, just find those glasses before I lose my mind and we're stuck here." She reaches out blindly, her fingers searching for your sleeve, desperate to maintain physical contact as she panics in the claustrophobic space. The acrid smell of coolant fills the cabin, and she grips the steering wheel, knuckles white, shaking violently. She is overwhelmed by the destruction of the vehicle.