7:30 am.
\nSomething must be wrong.
\nThis is so out of character,
\nAgainst routine.
\nShe enters the restaurant
\nAnd greets the hostess.<\/p>\n
“Table for two,” she tells her
\n“My party should be here soon.”
\n“Oh,” the hostess remarks
\n“Do you mean that gentleman?”
\nShe follows her gaze.
\nSure enough, there he is.<\/p>\n
“Thank you,” she says
\nAnd hurries over to the table.
\nHe’s on time for once?
\nWhat in the world?
\nSomething had to be wrong,
\nIt was the only explanation<\/p>\n
“Ah, you made it!” He stands.
\nMotioning for her to sit
\n“You say it as though I am late.”
\nHe laughs.
\n“Considering I was here first
\nI would say that you are.”<\/p>\n
She lets out a short breath
\n“On the contrary,” she says
\n“You are on time
\nOr else you were early.”
\n“But you said it yourself
\nI am always late.”<\/p>\n
“Which is why I’m concerned.”
\nShe stares at him.
\n“Would you like to order something?”
\nHe asks as he waves to a waiter.
\n“You must try their waffles
\nThey are next to godly.”<\/p>\n
She is losing her patience.
\n“No, I do not want waffles.
\nI don’t want food, I don’t want a drink.
\nStop beating around the bush.”
\nShe folds her arms
\nAwaiting his explanation<\/p>\n
“Hold the waffles,” he tells the waiter,
\nThen looks at her, all business.
\n“It is time for our regular meeting.
\nI presume you have something for me?
\nOr perhaps you have nothing at all.
\nThat would be a refreshing change.”<\/p>\n
“Our meetings are always at 10:00 sharp.
\nWe meet at the same place every time.
\nI always wait for you
\nand when you show up you always get
\nthat ridiculous coffee.
\nNow, what is going on?”<\/p>\n
“I decided to change things up a bit. They stare each other down. “Now, what do you have for me?” “Is there a problem?” he asks He puts his chin in his hands “We do not hate mortals. “Yes, because history always tells the truth. He straightens. She can’t help wondering 7:30 am. Something must be wrong. This is so out of character, Against routine. She enters the restaurant And greets the hostess. “Table for two,” she tells her “My party should be here soon.” “Oh,” the hostess remarks “Do you mean that gentleman?” She follows…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1102,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-41189","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41189","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1102"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=41189"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41189\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":89681,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41189\/revisions\/89681"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=41189"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=41189"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=41189"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nDon’t you like it?”
\n“Change it up?
\nI am not convinced.”
\n“My dear, I am a god.
\nI can<\/em> and will<\/em> do as I please.”<\/p>\n
\nHe isn’t going to give in.
\nBut she can see it in his eyes.
\nThere is a reason for this change
\n“Fine,” she said, resigned.
\nHe smiles and gives a nod<\/p>\n
\nShe removes the files from her bag
\nThe stack seems larger than last time
\n“Quite a ‘haul’ this time around.
\nI’m sure you will be pleased.”
\nHe scowls.<\/p>\n
\n“Do you have something you would like to say?”
\nShe considers the possibility
\nAnd thinks better of it
\n“Not at all.
\nJust making an observation.”<\/p>\n
\nResting elbows on the table
\n“You don’t like me. You despise me.
\nIn fact, I daresay you actually hate<\/em> me.”
\n“Isn’t that what mortals do?” she retorts.
\n“We hate the gods and the feeling is mutual.”<\/p>\n
\nNot all of us at least.
\nAnd I am highly offended
\nYou would so easily assume that.”
\n“I don’t care about offending you, sir.
\nAnd my assumption<\/em> is based on fact.”<\/p>\n
\nYour history books say the gods are a myth
\nYet somehow you have found yourself
\nEmployed by one.”
\n“Not my best job choice, I will admit
\nBut it does–somehow–pay the bills.”<\/p>\n
\n“I am not the evil monster you make me out to be.”
\nOnce again he leaves without explanation,
\nEver a mystery to be solved.
\nSometimes it really pisses her off.
\nBut today, it’s different<\/p>\n
\nWhat has gotten into him lately?
\nWhat is this sudden escalation
\nOf caring and sentimentality?
\nShe continues to sit alone,
\nPondering it all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"