GEFJON

The woman sighed, looking at the bullocks in front of her, endlessly pulling the plough to nowhere. She too was stuck, frozen in motion, the view to her right never changing and the squawking voices of the parade of tourists rattling in her ears often out of view to the left.

How had this happened, she wondered for the millionth time? How had she been convinced by some hansom, big-moustachio'd, sharp-eyed artisan to be the model for a Goddess in a Danish fountain? That was it, she recognized - again. Goddess.  Myths and legends. What was not to fall for?

The bullocks didn't care, they were happy stuck in place pulling nothing. She, on the other hand, wanted to be free! What is the point of being a Goddess if you're stuck in place, with no say over your future?