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Creative writing hephaestus and aphrodite

Creative Writing: Hephaestus and Aphrodite - The Dispute

As Hephaestus was walking down Rhea Street on Mount Olympus, he noticed his

wife, Aphrodite, kissing Hermes, the messenger-God, next to the area's one and

only Burger God (very well-known for its char-broiled Whoppers).

"Wait just a tootin' minute," he said aloud to himself. "Why is my wife

kissing Hermes? She is supposed to be devoted to me!" He was furious. It was

very rare when Hephaestus became angry for any reason, so he was certain to have

taken notice of his odd and unusual reaction. "I must settle this like a calm,

rational person," he told himself at last. "This matter can very easily be

resolved." He sighed. "I shall speak to her when she returns home. Until then,

I am going to go home and rest a while—think things through."

And with that thought, Hephaestus made his way home, being absolutely

sure not to look in the direction of the scene Aphrodite and Hermes was putting

on for all the gods to see; however, it was not easy.

After several hours of waiting, Aphrodite finally came home—and

Hephaestus was there waiting for her. It was now dark, so she fumbled through

the room to find a light. One was turned on before she could come across one.

It startled her so! She whipped around toward the direction of the source of

the light, only to find Hephaestus sitting in his favorite easy chair, a glass

of red wine in one hand and a grape bushel in the other. He had the most

peculiar grin on his face.

"How was your day, dearest?" he asked his wife charmingly. "Did you

enjoy yourself?"

"Why, yes, thank you," she said cautiously, wondering why on Olympus he

was acting so out of the ordinary. "How was yours?" she asked after a small

moment's hesitance.

"Oh, it was remarkable, thanks." The grin never left his face. "Tell

me, Aphrodite, did you make anyone happy today?" She gave him a confused look,

as if she did not understand the question. Hephaestus picked up on it quickly

and he re-addressed the question. "By that I mean, since you are the Goddess of

Love and Beauty, did you make anyone happy? Perhaps, send them a reason to fall

in love?"

"Oh," she said at last, "of course I did. My day wouldn't be complete

if I hadn't. Why do you ask, Hephaestus?"

"I only ask because I just want to know how your day was, that's all,"

he responded almost immediately after the question was addressed. "No

particular reason behind it."

"I see," she said, still confused, and made her way to the giant marble

staircase. "Well, I suppose I shall be heading up to bed now. I've had a very

tiring day, you know. I will see you in the morning."

"Okay then," he said, getting up from the chair. "One more thing, my

love..." He walked toward her with a limp, grimacing slightly at the response his

crippled leg gave him when he stood upon it. Nonetheless, he made his way to

the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes?" she asked, halfway up the stairs.

"Was that Hermes I saw you with today next to the Burger God? You know,

the one on the corner of Cronus and Rhea?"

"Oh!" she almost said bluntly, but instead, "Yes, I suppose you could

have. Why do you ask?" She had turned around completely now, and was slowly

walking back down the stairs, step.

"Well," he began, straightening his robe, "I happened to be taking a

stroll down Rhea Street to drop off a sword for Zeus, and I noticed that you and

he were...well, very fond of each other."

At that, Aphrodite's heart became very shallow and almost non-existent.

Then it sped up, out of nowhere, and her face and ears turned bright red. "But... see, I..." She tried to speak, but nothing would come out. There would

have been a very long pause of silence if Hephaestus hadn't said:

"Aphrodite, dear, please tell me either he was choking on something and

you were only trying to get it out of him, or..." He stopped right there, tears

slowly forming. He had seen the look in her eyes, and knew right then and there

that there could not be an alternate to what he knew was undeniable. Tears

began to flood his eyes, rage and anger pushing up from his stomach. He tried

to hold back, being successful at first, then letting it all out.

"How could you?" he sobbed, then boomed, "You broke my heart, Aphrodite!

You ripped it from my chest, tore it into halves and quarters, threw it to the

ground, stomped on it, then spat"—he took a deep breath, tears now streaming

from his face—"then spat on it." Hephaestus removed his left hand from his hip,

covered his eyes with it, and began to sob indefinitely.

"Hephaestus, I'm truly sorry..." she said, achieving nothing. Then, in

more effort to comfort him, she said, "I didn't want to hurt you."

Hephaestus looked up, looking through the tears that flooded his eyes

and face. He sniffed, "Did you do it because of this?"—he pointed to his

deformed leg. "Is it because I am not the most beautiful immortal you have ever

seen? Why must you be so shallow?" He now just stared at her, his eyes

blazing with fury. Red, red fury.

"Me, shallow?" she asked at once. "How can you accuse me of being

shallow? All you do is spend all your time making goods and tools for other

gods. You never ever sit and talk with me. We never do anything together."

She stopped pleading, for the moment, and began to speak extremely...well, snobby.

"I hardly think I am the one to blame for this mess, anyway." She turned a

quarter of a turn, her left shoulder now facing her husband.

"How can you say that?" he rasped. "You know just as well as I that I

was not the one getting fresh with Hermes! Hermes, of all people. Ha!" His

voice was now extremely loud, filled with anger. Hephaestus was not one to get

so angry. If one were watching such an argument, they would surely know that

Aphrodite had done something extremely terrible for him to be acting so unusual.

"Oh, do shut up, will you!" Hephaestus was stunned. Never, in their

many many years of marriage, had Aphrodite ever told him to shut up. "I don't

want to hear another word about it. I will go upstairs to rest for the night;

meanwhile, you will sleep down here in the easy chair. Sleep on the floor, for

all I care! We shall talk about this in the morning." With that, she made her

way upstairs.

"No I won't!" he boomed, and rushed out the door, slamming it behind him.

He did not return the rest of the evening. Or the next day...or the day after

that...or the day after that...

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