Hermes manages to avoid the Titan,
but just barely; the last grasp
rips loose six pinions
from the left wing of his right shoe.
Hermes makes his way back to Olympus
and delivers the message.
Then he takes off his shoes,
borrows a flying horse from a hero friend,
and heads to the immortal shoe store.
There he bumps into Nike,
who is grumbling over the racks.
"Don't they have anything in gold?"
"I shop here every century.
Is it too much to ask
for them to stock my color?"
"They run out of silver too,"
he says, as he tries on a pair
of sandals with plain white wings.
The proprietor sits on his bench,
patiently tweezing the wings
off of the cherub-winged shoe flies
to make the maligned footwear.
Finally he loses his temper and snaps,
"If you don't like the selection,
you can just walk home!"
Hermes and Nike pay up
and fly away.
Muttering, the proprietor sits back down
and fantasizes about bribing Chronos
to let him have a few time flies.