The Inhumane ~(Previously named Greek Gods: Civil War)

The Shark

21

Oigo ese grito de los tambores y los timbales al cumbanchar [I hear the cry of drums and kettledrums when partying]

Y ese pregón que canta un hermano [And that proclamation that a brother sings]

Que de su tierra vive lejano [That from his land lives far away]

Y que el recuerdo le hace llorar [And the memory makes him weep]

Una canción que vive entonando [A song that lives singing]

De su dolor, de su propio llanto [About its pain, its own cry]

Y se le escucha penar [And you hear the grieving]

Siguen los pregones [The declaration continues]

La melancolía [The sadness]

Y cada noche junto a la luna [And every night by the moon]

Sigue el guajiro entonando el son [Does the guajiro keep singing the tune]

Y cada calle que va a mi pueblo [And every street that goes to my people]

Tiene un quejido, tiene un lamento [It has a weep, it has a lament]

Tiene nostalgia como su voz [The nostalgia they have is like its voice]

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A week has passed, but every day feels the same. A week has passed, but every single day felt the same as the last.

Hera was very well informed that this new lifestyle of pure, dull monotony was driving Hebe very close to the edge of an early teenage rebellion, but besides getting her a new activity book and a bigger backpack, she hasn't been able to do much about it, at least according to her.

She couldn't leave her at home, because ... well ... home just didn't feel safe anymore. There was something wrong with it, maybe lead in the walls that led to hallucinations, who knows! Either way, last time she left Hebe alone for only a few minutes ... babysitter or not, supernatural reason or not ... she needs to keep an eye on that kid.

Which is what she did. To the point in which she felt she might be neglecting her own work to some extent. Or at least, she wasn't able to put every bit of herself in what she was doing like before. Instead, she'd find the words on her screen and paperwork just seem to fade out, her eyes panned away from it and instead would glare at the table ahead of her, where Hebe would sit down, a little away from the other employees, poring over the 3s multiplication table.

Who knows what kind of expression appeared on her face when she'd do this, since an employee or two had already been caught eyeing them both in a face that showed some nervousness and probably concern.

Probably thinks I hate my daughter's guts ... Sorry about that, I guess...!

So this was their life until Hera would agree to begrudgingly go back to their apartment. She somewhat missed being able to go to her Brother-in-Law's, but after his rather ... inappropriate behaviour last time she went to his place ... well, there's nothing to be done. Unless she wanted to spend a shit-ton of money on some cramped motel, this was where they slept.

So, the only thing she could do to make it up to the 6-year old for ruining her childhood with an early taste of corporate life, was the blessed lunch-times at the bakery, or the historic library, since all the other libraries were closed by the time she left work.