..and Odysseus returned to the wood where Circe Lagardos lived.
'O Odysseus,' she lamented, 'did I not warn you of being brought low at the hands of the men in the horde of men in long grey pants?'
'Actually, no,' said Odysseus, 'what you actually said was that it's always best to stay well in with the horde of men in long grey pants.'
'Did I?' said Circe.
'Yes, you do seem to forget things these days. I have heard from the oracles that you are insistent that we Ithacans pay our tribute to the city and yet you yourself pay none.'
'You must learn to overlook petty detail, Odysseus and look to the bigger picture. My message to you today is that no matter what is the agreement you have made between you and the horde of men in long grey pants, it is no more use to you than swine turd.'
'How come?' said Odysseus looking deep into the wine-dark sea.
'Because, dear Odysseus, even people like me have come to realise that a people who eat nothing, make nothing. People who make nothing, are unable to furnish the likes of me with any drachma at all.'
'How strange to hear these words from you, Circe,' said Odysseus ruefully rubbing his beard.
'Never fear, Odysseus, such humanity on my part won't last long. Soon I will be back to turning people into swine.'
'And will you be paying your tribute to the city at any point in the future?' Odysseus queried.
'Never,' said Circe and returned to her offices.
I wonder if we could sell swine turd to travellers who visit Ithaca, Odysseus pondered….
'
