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<img src="rocks.jpg" class="sideimage">
You tug at the chains biting into your wrists, flecked with the salt spray even now at low tide. You face the sea, the only smooth rock for miles around almost lovingly curling into your back. There are a few tiny inches of play in the chain, but you struggle to keep your balance on the thick slippery kelp and sharp barnacles waiting eagerly for their daily flooding. You watch the tides coming in, waves rushing righteously forth between the rocks, dribbling resentfully back behind that knoll--where not even the tiniest kayak would bear these rough cliff waters, for even at the highest tides leave some jagged points bare.
Eliza: So. This is your life. What do you want to do?
Do you...
[[Wait for rescue]]
[[Cut the chains]]
[[Yell your fool head off]]
[[Get eaten by the sea monster]]
YOU: Wait sweetly for your rescue
ELIZA: After all, this is a fantasy. Sure, go ahead and wait for the hero of the story.
ELIZA: Because of course this is what will happen. You sigh, shift your feet against the rocks, and watch the water cover more and more of your body. You do not think about what just nuzzled up between your toes.
ELIZA: If your hero ever arrives, who would it be?
[[A knight in shining armor]]
[[The mayor of a great city]]
[[A dragon]]
<a href="eliza.html">Someone else?</a>YOU: Keep cutting on the outside
A jagged shell lies just beyond your reach. You strain for it, reach for it, pray for it. A few too many waves later and the shell is within your grasp. You hold it tight, and transfer it slowly to your mouth, cutting your lip. You awkwardly maneuver and start chopping at the chains. The shell breaks a bit more with each chip.
You keep on, hoping that these tiny brittle edges can cut through the steel, even though the priests made sure their sacrifice had the best new steel their captains of industry had to offer. Not a scratch. The tides continue to roll in.
ELIZA: That was pointless, sweetums...everybody knows women like you can't break their own chains. Why don't you try something a little more within your reach?
[[Yell your fool head off]]
[[Wait for rescue]]
[[Cut your hands off]]
[[Think of something else]]YOU: Yell to your heart's content
ELIZA: Fine, dearie. Go right ahead and cry, because that is what you do best, isn't it?
YOU: ...
ELIZA:Have your oh-so-cute little tantrum. Yell just as much as your voice will let you.
YOU: ...
ELIZA: The roaring of the incoming tide rips your voice from you, leaving you hoarse and thirsty. Now the salt spray teases your lips of promised moisture, tantalizing you and leaving you where you were--but the tides are higher now.
Do you...
[[Cut the chains]]
[[Wait for rescue]]
[[Go insane]]
[[Think of something else]]YOU: A knight in shining armor would be a dream date...
ELIZA: Right, because this is what always happens. You don't question your reality, you never have. So little girl, you don't dare to ask the knight's motivation in all of this.
YOU: ...
ELIZA: Right then. Ok. you are not surprised when you hear the hoofbeats far above you, and see the rope descend, with a knight on the end of it. You wait patiently for him to arrive, jump off his trusty white steed, and unlock the chains because of course he stole those from the Mayor's office and made a copy last Wednesday.
ELIZA: And somehow, miraculously, it occurs to you that you might have a choice here after all. What will it be, sweetcakes?
[[Go away with him]]
[[String him up]]
[[Think of something else]] Elections matter, and you voted in the last one. *Make this city great again* was the slogan, and you believed every word.
What you did not seem to comprehend was that "great again" was a sly code word for "make sure that those who had power and wealth because of their birth kept that power intact and sacrifice any uppity lower class women, people of color, gays, muslims, or other minorities to whatever dragons we can come up with." Yeah, you missed that little bit in the debates, didn't you?
ELIZA: So, um, cutiepie, I hate to break this to you. The mayor lied. If he promised you a rescue, you had best wake up and smell the coffee. Maybe even start a coffee party of your own. Oh wait, you can't, can you? Those chains on your wrist still haven't come off, and now the water is lapping into your nostrils.
You sneeze at the salt spray as you begin to drown. Crying doesn't help.
ELIZA: What now, sweetie?
[[Go insane]]
[[Cut your hands off]]
[[Think of something else]]ELIZA: So you figure that a dragon, a *deus ex machina* is your only hope. You dream of it, as you have dreamt of rescue all your life. A magnificent scaled creature, sunlight cascading off his scales and coruscating into swirling iridescent patterns that dance behind your retinas. He'd sweep you off your feet and beg you to become his guiding light. Of course it would be an equal partnership--you on the dragon's back, slaying sea monsters and embezzling from the rich and giving to the United Nations Children Fund or oh, wait a minute, that was your Robin Hood as Hacker dream--sorry, where were we in your fantasy land anyway? I'm a bit lost in all your pipe dreams here.
ELIZA: Um... sweetheart, I gotta tell you something. Dragons eat people just like sea monsters do. Some people think dragons are mythical beings. And they may or may not be right. Are you sure about this course of action?
[[Promise the dragon anything]]
[[Get eaten by the dragon]]
[[Think of something else]]YOU: have stretched your hands so far already grabbing at that jagged shell that was just so barely within your reach. You put the shell in your mouth and you hack at your wrists, stretching your neck out farther than you ever thought you could. Your body bursts with the adrenaline pumping through your terror. You slash at your own wrists, right under the chains. You keep going, and somehow the pain does not matter, the bones shattering do not matter, your blood spurting from your arteries does not matter.
Your bloody stump is free, and you hold your arm tight into your elbow to staunch the blood. You hack at your other arm, and it too, comes free. With the last of your strength, you climb up off the rock. You roll away from the incoming tide and rest, unable to go any farther. If you survive the coming night, you will know that now you are free.
Eliza: Congratulations. So, dearie was this all worthwhile or was it just another Pyrrhic victory, after all that?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes...</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No...</a>ELIZA: Women in this situation often took drugs to dull the pain of their chains. After all, if you can not escape, then you may as well make life somewhat enjoyable. Too bad that both of your hands are tied too tightly to reach anything edible. Too bad that you did not foresee your inevitable future and that you forgot to take the always sensible precaution of keeping xanax and valium in your pocket.
ELIZA: Yes, honey sweetums, that means...your only drug of choice in this situation is insanity. Go ahead. Slip away. Stop struggling. In the end, did your life matter anyway?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes...</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No...</a>YOU: Happily ever after. The End.
ELIZA: And this is how the story is supposed to go. Of course, you become the sweet, docile housewife you were supposed to be all along. Stay sweet, dearie, there is no other possible outcome for you. And this is how it will be for the rest of your life. After all, would it matter to anyone if your heart wasn't truly, one hundred percent committed to this never ending round of adoring babies, sparkling houses, and PTA meetings?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes...</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No...</a>YOU: leap over the astonished knight just as he cuts your last chain. You pant heavily with the sudden exertion of scrambling up the cliff and you are left breathless from the sudden freedom of it all.
ELIZA: Before he can move, you quickly, deftly, slip the [[chains->You are here]] on him and leave him to the rising tide. He squawks at you, threatening you. It was not him, after all, who decided your fate was to be such a helpless and chained creature. He was trying to rescue you, dammit, and save you from that life of eaten submission.
ELIZA: But no. You walk away, wiping your hands on your new horse's mane, contemplating where you can fence the knight's sword, armor, and iphone. You are well justified--since the sea monster must eat and life is a zero sum game, after all.
ELIZA: WAIT. You DON'T do that? What kind of heroine are you anyway? Fine. Then. Just fine.
<a href="eliza.html">What do you want to do??</a>
This is what you majored in--adaptive management, resilience thinking, flexible solutions. You think of yourself as a sophisticated woman, an emancipated woman. You laugh to think that your great-great-grandmother could not own property, that your great-grandmother could not vote, that your grandmother could not get a credit card, that your mother had no recourse if the boss grabbed her pussy, and that you yourself weren't allowed in combat. Because all of this is so very far behind you now.
Surely you are well beyond this situation of lore and fantasy. Surely you are not tied with these [[chains to a rock->You are here]], watching the same [[rocks->You are here]] get covered and uncovered in the distance with each wave, and the possibilities of shoreline gradually receeding. You would have noticed the tides that swarm to [[drown you->Get eaten by the sea monster]]. Really.
ELIZA: Welcome back to reality.
[[You are here]]
ELIZA: ...What? You want to leave this circular story? Fine.
ELIZA: <a href="eliza.html">Think of something else, why don't you, sweetie-pie?</a>
YOU: ...are a dragon's lunch.
ELIZA: Sometimes you get to eat the dragon. But not in this story. This time, the dragon eats you.
ELIZA: Better luck next time, sweetness.
ELIZA: After all, if your life mattered, then it would not end this way, would it?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes...</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No...</a>
[[Think of something else]] YOU: Make rash promises to a dragon
ELIZA: Ok. Let me get this straight. You are going from a dream of an equal partnership with a [[dragon->A dragon]] to begging and pleading and giving up everything? Just to get a couple of lousy chains off your hands and stop you from drowning in the tide or [[getting devoured by the sea monster->Get eaten by the sea monster]]? Get a hold of yourself, girlie.
YOU: ...
ELIZA: And do you really think that what you have to offer would even matter to a dragon anyway?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes...</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No...</a>
[[Think of something else]] <img src="monster.jpg" class="cover">
This was the idea after all. You were the chosen one, the lots were fairly cast. OK, ok, not really exactly fairly--the [[mayor's->The mayor of a great city]] daughter, Ivana, was here last week and she got off scot free. She was only chained for a half an hour, when the mayor's henchman rescued her. And everyone knew that the sea monster was seen in Volkfair Harbor, which is over 200 leagues from here, eating a Sunday brunch of eels and orca and the occasional sailor tossed overboard. And of course, the tides were at their neap tide, the lowest point in the year, so pretty Ivana never was in danger.
ELIZA: You, on the other hand, are in danger. You have no rich and influential family to save you from the sea monster's harassing grasp. And it goes without saying that sea monsters have to be fed. We have to make sure to squelch the potential of most everyone. After all, if you are not white, rich, and male, then you really don't count here, do you?
<a href="eliza.html">Yes I do. How dare you actually say what everyone is thinking out loud like that??</a>
<a href="eliza.html">No, I really don't count. Of course I'll sacrifice my measly, insignificant self for the greater good of those already in power</a>
Don't you worry about me. I'll <a href="eliza.html">think up a very clever plan</a>. . . <img src="cover.jpg" class="cover" />
<div class="title">Eliza and Andromeda</div>
<div class="author">Anastasia Salter | Deena Larsen </div>
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<center>[[Music by Memory Fruit|https://soundcloud.com/memoryfruit]]</center>