Hello, and welcome to The Gods Are Bored! What did you do today? I stripped wallpaper! I know, right? Contain your jealousy, reader. It's unseemly.
I've gotta say I'm very surprised to have a dinner guest tonight. I would have thought she'd be home with her husband. But please give a warm and wonderful welcome to Persephone, Queen of Hades!
Anne: Persephone! This is ... unexpected. Yesterday was Equinox, and I thought...
Persephone: Maybe you've noticed, the seasons change slower than they used to.
Anne: But I would have thought your calendar was more dependent upon the hours of sunlight than the temperature of the atmosphere. Anyway, come on in! Mr. J is making spaghetti.
Persephone: Zounds! What happened in your living room?
Anne: Well, I got the first layer of wallpaper off, and now I'm starting on the underside, which is easier, but it all takes so much time...
Persephone: You need help?
Anne: Aren't you due down in Hell?
Persephone: That's just it, Anne. I'm tired of being due. I'm tired of being bossed around by my mother, and I'm tired of being at the beck and call of my husband. Where do I have a say in all this?
Anne: Indeed you have a clear-cut case for #MeToo. But I thought you actually loved Hades.
Persephone: He can be very cold, Anne. And he thinks he's better than me. Okay, he's a god and all that, but a girl has feelings, you know?
Anne: Well then, stay here with your mom! You should see how she decks things out in the fall.
Persephone: Nope. No can do. For the past two hundred years she's been getting more and more feverish. Her temper is a force of nature. She's crabby all the time.
Anne: (aside) "Crabby" is not an adjective I would ever attach to a deity. But that's just me. (to Persephone) To be honest, your majesty, I am a real believer in free will. It does seem to me that you get shuttled back and forth with little say in the matter.
Anne: So what do you propose to do?
Persephone: You have several spare bedrooms now ... and your Gamma cat is such a fluffy sweetheart ...
Anne: And I am totally cool with putting you up for as long as you like, so long as your spouse doesn't ... how shall I say this? Take me to task for it?
Persephone: I don't know what he'll do. I've never stood up to him before.
Anne: Can you appreciate that this puts me in a bit of a spot, considering I'm a mortal?
Persephone: This old sofa of yours needs all new upholstery. I'd love to take a crack at it.
Anne: Sorely, sorely tempting! And you don't even have to bribe me, Seph. I can feel your pain. Dragged off to be married, then tricked into eating one seed so you'd have to stay, then having to deal with your mom's moods...
Persephone: I know that Cloacina stayed here with you awhile. And Walt Whitman too.
Anne: Walt only spent the night. He has a house in Camden. I have to ask, though: What happens to the climate if you hang out here at my place in Snobville? Won't your mom just keep the summer sun beaming down until we all bake like biscuits?
Persephone: We don't have to tell her I'm here. Or him either.
Anne: Oh, sheesh! For the love of fruit flies! You're going to have Mother Nature and the God of Death on the search, and they'll wind up in my living room?
Persephone: Damn. Yeah, you're right. But what am I to do? I'm sick and tired of both of them.
Anne: I can dig it. Nothing worse than thwarted potential. Here's an idea: Cloacina is down in the Carolinas, frantically trying to keep waterways free of poisons and harmful bacteria. I'm sure she could use some help. It's chaotic down there right now, so Hades would have a heck of a time chasing you down.
Persephone: I would like to do something useful.
Anne: Well then, that's my recommendation. What do you think?
Persephone: I like it!
Anne: And you wouldn't have to leave until morning. Dinner's almost ready! And the guest room is the only clean place in the house.
Persephone: Thanks, Anne! We can braid some trim for your upholstery, talk a little politics ...
Anne: No politics for me, Seph. When I say, "You do you, Persephone," that pretty much sums up my entire political philosophy. Say, is that a new tattoo?
Persephone: You like it? I designed it myself.