Tiresias was a very interesting dead man to Hermes, he felt almost connected to the prophet. He never left the gods mind. So the winged god decided to make a move, and surprisingly he wasn’t pushed away.

Hermes started visiting the blind prophet more often despite the man’s lack of emotion or energy. Hermes took it as a challenge to get reactions out of him.

Like this fine evening. Hermes headed down to the underworld to visit his friend, only to find him snoozing away. Dead people slept? it didn’t bother the god at all, Hermes thought Tiresias looked silly while he slept. Like someone at a funeral, stiff.

Then an idea popped into the gods head. He would give his little friend some eyes, what a nice thing to do. Hermes pulled out ink and a feather from who knows where, the man’s magic. And drew eyes over Tiresias’ bandages, gave him a nice mustache too.

Afterwards the god waited, waited hours for his friend to awaken. And when he did, Tiresias quickly acknowledged Hermes’ presence. “I know you’re there.”

“I know darling, no one could not notice me.”

“Why are you here?” The prophet asked, only to be given a fit of quiet giggles as a response.

“Why are you laughing Hermes.” Tiresias asked, skeptical of the gods giggling. It was never a good sign.