Finite
As the summer days ticked by, Persephone knew they wouldn't last. Her husband came earlier every year, it seemed, so she had to make the most with the finite time she had.
Hiding her worries behind a smile and a bottle of wine, she passed her goods around to eager onlookers and noticed a new face in the crowd. How cute, she thought. Orpheus, the poet boy, was in love with a young girl.
"Awww, young love," she teased, and the girl—Eurydice—smiled back. Gods, it made Persephone think back on her and Hades, and their love. How were either of them to know love could fade over the years, die off like those mortals?
For Orpheus and Eurydice's sake, Persephone toasted to the couple. Maybe even with their mortal lifespans, their fragile hearts, she thought, their love would last. If they could last, maybe she and Hades could rekindle the old spark.
None of them knew the poet and his songbird would only last til winter.