Hades had seen this before: the soft-necked beloved ( dodi in an old tongue) gripping a diamond he’d never place on a finger, the woman with a future as bright as a temple torch. The god did not cause the crash. He simply unlatched the small door at the bottom of the world.
Dodi blinked. Saw no flames, no judgment throne. Only a dark-haired man offering a cup of Lethe’s water, and in the distance, his own father waiting by a river of forgetfulness. “Am I dead?” Dodi asked. Hades almost smiled. You were always mine, he said. Everyone’s beloved belongs to the earth in the end. hades dodi
The Unseen Passenger