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Hermes' GuestOne day, tired and weary from the day’s work, the messenger god Hermes travelled down a worn dirt road towards a small, uninhabited cottage he knew he could use to rest. Though it was dark, he could make out the outline of something hunched over on the other side of the road. A fire was lit, and the creature turned out to be nothing more than a young girl. He called to her, and she started at his voice, for she had not known he was there. The girl did not recognize him as a god, in fact she seemed not know him at all, but welcomed him all the same. Since she didn’t recognize him, he thought it best not to reveal who he was just yet, and told her his name was Argon. She told him her name was Iceis, and motioned for him to sit by her. Hermes’ stomach rumbled like thunder in the sky. “Iceis, do you by chance have anything to eat?”
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She looked into a bag by her side. “I have only a small loaf of stale bread, a few apples, and a small gourd of water. It is
Under the rug“You’ll never amount to anything,” the dust mocks me as I sweep it under the rug.
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“No time for self-pity today,” I tell myself, or tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that…
“I have NO interest in being friends with you. Leave me alone.” Another speck hisses, voice quiet but words filled with animosity.
“Well fine. You shouldn’t have lied about that then.” I try to sound angry. It doesn’t work.
“You’ve already messed this one up; let’s see how long it takes you to mess her sister up too!” a clod of dirt roars before it joins the dust.
That’s… that’s not true, is it? Me, messed up?
My brain helpfully provides evidence that would agree with this statement.
Depression, ADD, poor motor skills, lack of social grace, lack of social-anything-positive…
Don’t you cry, don’t you dare cry, I don’t care if that’s true or n