Below is a short story that I wrote about Cassandra which may be of interest to you personally or perhaps to use with your students as part of a unit on mythology or the Trojan War. She has always been one of my favorite characters. Despite the fragmented literature that describe her as a selfish opportunist, I have always thought that she must have been a remarkably strong woman. What must it be like to live with the gift of prophesy while knowing that no one will believe you? The rest of the story is contained in the Omnia drive in the folder entitled, "This I Believe." Link is here
The Prophet’s Choice
I see it - just before dawn – the dark beast, stark against the bright beach. I hear the grunting and thrash of sand as it lurches forward. Once or twice, I feel the terrible rumbling of its belly as it rocks back and forth. I won’t watch. Instead, I slip out of the palace, and sit on the cool marble steps of my temple.
“There you are!”
I turn around. It is Maya, my youngest sister. “Mama said I would find you here. Why are you here all by yourself?
As she blinks up at me, I’m at loss at what to say. I notice the flowers clenched in her small fist.
“Maya,” I say. “Would you like me to braid those flowers in your hair?”
I pat the step of the temple below me. She smiles, skips up the stone steps and settles herself in front of me.
I tuck the flowers in her hair while she prattles on about the evening’s celebration. She’s very excited – lots of gestures and I have to remind her to stop bouncing so much so that I can properly braid her hair. I can’t hear what she’s saying because he is whispering in my ear again. His tone has lost its’ teasing quality and has become more urgent. “Come with me,” he breathes. I feel his fingers brush my cheek. I look up and he is gone.