Hades’ Heart

They see me as death.

I live and work in Hell.

It started when my father died and my brothers’ foolishness. Zeus thought he deserved everything. Poseidon didn’t want the last pick. So I suggested we leave it to fate.

We picked sticks.

Zeus got the skies, Poseidon the seas, and I the Earth beneath the ground and our dead father.

Father points his bony finger at me, nagging that I don’t tend to the lost souls enough. He badgers how I don’t have a wife, a woman to put me in my place.

But I have a job. Thousands of souls knock on my door everyday, every night, every hour. They don’t care if I’m sleeping or eating. They knock and moan and beg for my judgment.

I take my job gravely while Zeus whores around and Poseidon plays his silly games of revenge.

When they come for dinner, they too, nag how I don't have a wife.

            “Brother, you do not know life until you have made love.”

            “You need a woman to brighten this darkness.”

            “You need a family.”

            “A companion.”

            “Sex.”

I didn’t want to leave my unfinished work, my crying souls.

But I also wanted all of them to shut up and reluctantly trailed up to the surface.

She was in a field with her mother.

She caught me staring and smiled.

Her hair blew flowers that the wind then carried and scattered across the fields.

Her scent bellowed me to come closer.

She mouthed the words “Take me.”

So I did.

She now lives with me for half the year.

In that time, I greedily steal and savor her warmth from the world above.

Sometimes I ponder how my father and brothers were right.

She is a kind lover.

A confidante, a companion,

A light.

Her name is Persephone.