Prometheion: I'm Dating Hermes!
aled something was burning. I stopped mid-hallw
ng eerie about them. Nothing in the universe is so simple yet so, so appealing. In the Sand
ourage, I face
s daring me to question. From his anachronistic toga to his winged sandals, he was a blaring
ap. The stranger's grin
you a
heckered scarf
rme
bra
ough the air in a snazzy salute. "G'mo
ed, and I didn't hear any breaking glass." I looked him up and down.
hen ah'ed appreciatively. "By Jove's hairy derriere, what a drink. Wine pales in comparison. To the gods of
were?" I looked at his hands. They were tapered lik
tranger was, in fact, like taking the firs
the scarf," he sang, o
s edge, tipping the mug over the rail
his sacrifice of vessel and drink. A blessin
ed my cof
ds likely to smile upon you. Just don't pull a Tantalus, m'k
worth my
the back. "So, love, the reason I'm
he porch. The so-called He
d. I was twelve. I came home and found the house empty. Things were always hard for us, and my parents were alway
didn't want to. The man
im!" I stumbled back into the
of tea appear
sweetened with ambrosia
ever crap the lunatic had spiced it with tasted bitt
metal come to life. His proud face as I showed him my
g in the Catskills. I'd watched as he built a
mallows. His eyes, sometimes, grew strange to me.
ue. Toys painted just for me. The stories he'd spun, of
ps looked everywhere. No trace. They cycled me into a hellhole of
y. If there had been, your father would hav
cup. "Yeah. Right
company. I remember that night.
ike saucers. "Wha
died my sha
rally, into the cup. There'
my delu
es dances across it as he whispered in Greek
at me, his face contorted; his cry rang. I jolted: the cup clat
r's figu
rocks.
le," I whispered
face w
isn't real. Someone must've
d out at his conjuration. "That's not
," Hermes
ion had alr
Romance
Romance
Romance
Modern
Billionaires
Romance