5. I’m not pleased

5. I’m not pleased

Fate favored me.

From where I was sitting, I could see Poseidon, Zeus, and a few others sitting around a table having their breakfast. I couldn’t help myself staring at them—or him, particularly.

Then, to my extreme horror, Apollo came my way, holding a tray in his hands. I looked around to see if he was going to someone else, but no one was around in the five-meter radius…well, except for Hades, who was bent over his food despondently.

I prayed with all my heart not to let Apollo see me.

Unfortunately, Fate did not favor this time.

“What are you doing?” I said, my tone a bit sharper than I had intended.

“What? I can’t eat with you?” Apollo sounded like he was hurt. “You invited me, remember.”

“I’m taking it back.”

“Too late, my love.”

“Don’t call me your love.” But I could feel my face getting hotter.

Apollo had clearly noticed it, because he went on to say, “It’s weekend. Do you want to hang out at my place, my love?”

I grabbed my tray, walked over to Hades’s table, and sat down. Hades raised his head in my sudden appearance and asked in his low voice, “Why?”

“That’s why.” Without turning my head, I pointed toward the table I had left.

Hades looked behind my shoulders, then back at me, and unexpectedly, he stood up and walked away with his tray to another empty table.

Heat rose to my cheeks. I was ridiculed in front of everyone else! But I had to keep my face straight. At the same time I could not think of a single reason why Hades left. I could feel someone’s eyes on me, someone pleased—


(the featured image: “In Her Words” by Haydee Alonso)


Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s