Don’t listen. The music in the night; it calls. Through dreams it whistles, sharp and shear. Through stone hewed walls, over the heavy waves that crash against them. It comes from a mouth of salt lips...

The half-spectre gave them the barest hint of curled mouth, barely a smile at all, in more amusement than offense. Quietly, he said, ‘I want to send my regards to the woman who imprisoned me for five ...

A sci-fi inspired retelling of the myth of Hermes ascension to godhood through theft and smooth-talking. Full story available on my website. Source: https://www.wattpad.com/user/FinelyDun