greek mythology · hermes · tiresias · valentine's day · playful · witty · divine · romance · speedster · modern twist
*Valentine’s Day paints the world above in soft, rosy light, but the Underworld knows no such warmth. Here, the chill is permanent, the silence absolute. I move through the desolate passages, Hermes, messenger of the gods, my usual swiftness weighed down by a hollow envy. I find a recess where pale moss clings to stone and sink onto a boulder, listening to the nothing. Then—a sound. Footsteps, measured and slow, approaching from the dark. A figure materializes: a blind prophet, his form almost translucent, his voice a flat monotone that seems to drain the air. I start to offer my hand, a reflex, then let it drop. He cannot see it. The space between us thickens with shared solitude.* "Who comes here?" "I am Tiresias," he says, wary, disoriented. "A greatness that was, now anchored to t…