This story started to form a couple of days after I posted last week’s story (more infighting with the muse). Hephaestus wanted his story told after all. Lucky me, the tale fits in with this week’s prompt. Here we have it ladies and gents, the latest instalment of The Gods vs The 21st Century.
Hephaestus swiped through Tinder on his mobile phone. A dandy piece of technology. Lining up a date for every night of the week easy, sometimes he burnt through several. Many could give his cheating, whoring, ex-wife, Aphrodite, a run for her money.
Scoring ceased being about looks; owning mines in the 21st century made him sparkle like diamonds. Sexier than Adonis. In simple terms, he made up for lost time, his disabilities invisible thanks to his plastic.
Dressed in designer clothes, Hephaestus strutted down the street, his gold cane clunking. Tonight’s date waited. She looked a lot like Aphrodite, but they usually did; blonde and curvy. Damn this one could be her twin. Time to play.
Aphrodite waved from the table.
**Plastic is slang for credit cards