Lost gods were the worst hitchhikers (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

Lost gods were the worst hitchhikers.

They never seemed to know where they were going, or what they wanted to do when they got there.  They also never seemed to know what time of the day or night it was, or whether they were hot or cold, hungry or thirsty.  They just seemed to kind of hang out in whatever space they were in, until someone spoke to them and asked them a specific question demanding more than a “Yes” or “No” answer.

That’s why I hated driving on the interstate this late at night, you never knew who you were going to pick up—a drunk Zeus trying to sneak back home before Hera realized he was gone; Hades out for a night with the guys, forgetting where he’d parked after dropping off the last less-than-sober friend, and hoping like hell (no pun intended) that he got home before Persephone started calling around to all the bars looking for him; Hephaestus after he stayed late at physical therapy and all the buses in the area had stopped running; even Hercules and Iolaus after a late-night session at the local gym.  And with any luck I’d catch them in a good mood; a good mood meant they wouldn’t tear my car up too badly this time, and would even make sure I got home safely, without any breakdowns or attempted carjackings.  If they were in a bad mood…well, there was a reason I’d gone through three vehicles in as many years, as I kept trying to explain to my insurance company (not that they ever believed me)…

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