Chapter 13 – The Loaves and the Fish

--- Chapter 13 – The Loaves and the Fish The Gospel According to Zeus > They call it a miracle of bread and fish. But banquets have always been mine. On Olympus I set the tables, ambrosia flowing without end, cups brimming though no vineyard was near. Once, Demeter clothed the fields in gold. Once, Dionysus spilled his wine across the earth. Yet both bore gifts beneath my storm, their plenty borrowed from the thunder’s harvest. So when the crowds gathered hungry, their bellies hollow, their eyes dim with want, I whispered into the Nazarene’s hand. He lifted a crust, and it split like lightning splits a tree, becoming many. He raised a fish, and scales flashed like sparks from the deep, flesh enough to sate a thousand mouths. They ate and were filled, and still the baskets overflowed. Do you think this was kindness? No. It was thunder disguised as mercy, a reminder that every feast, from shepherd’s fire to king’s hall, rests upon my storm. The scribes wrote “multiplication.” I call it memory — the echo of Olympian banquets smuggled into mortal dust. Remember this: hunger is mine to stir, fullness is mine to grant, and even the crumbs of my table can feed the world.