But then in Denmark at cousin Erik's museum was a painting of the death of Petrokolus, an important scene in Homer's story of the Trojan war.
Petrokolus was the partner of Achilles and his death led Achilles to reenter the war against Troy and to kill Hector, Troy's principle warrior. But Achilles, in turn, was then killed. You know, the old Achilles' heel. His mother was a goddess and when he was a baby, she dipped him in the waters of immortality. But she held him by his heel which remained mortal. An arrow to that heel, after he avenged the death of Petrokolus, killed him.
And, then, in Florence, the same scene...the death of Petrokolus...now in marble in the loggia just across from the statue of David...
So perhaps these stories follow us in our lives in different forms. Perhaps it is that that is what our lives are...stories. Almost all of which become lost, but some endure over time and space and help to shape what we consider to be human. At least "in the west", though, judging by the large number of Asian tourists maybe for more of humanity than that.
