Why was the perfect angle so hard to get? Beads of sweat appeared on Zeus' forehead as he attempted another pose. A flash, a swipe of the screen....and a disappointing result. The glare rendered the photo flat and lifeless. Candlelight couldn't replace the perfect lighting of daytime, though it was too late now. A shame; this balcony view was spectacular!The sweet aroma of ambrosia and nectar begged him to put down his phone. His stomach rumbled.

"No, no," he muttered. "Just one more try—"

Silverware clattered on the table like alarm bells, making Zeus jump out of his skin. From the other side of the candlelit table, Hera shot a glare that could curdle milk.

She delicately lifted her fork from the table. "I am at a complete loss for words. Do I have to spell out how disrespectful that is? And not only to me!"

But photography was an underrated art form! Zeus hadn't understood this mortal hype until humanity and even Mount Olympus grinded to a halt. Confined to a life of drudgery and grim news, everyone in the family resorted to their own coping mechanisms. Athena and Ares honed their skills in the arena. Artemis spent her time on Earth in the woods, looking after the wildlife. Meanwhile, her twin brother, Apollo, had increased his social media presence, and infected his father with a most addicting hobby: taking selfies.

Wait. Did that mean Zeus was becoming like his children? He put his phone away. "I'm sorry dear, I understand. But I did take great shots of our meal."

"Which has gone cold. And I don't think you know just how powerful the camera on your iPhone-whatever-is! It nearly blinded me! I just got an update from the mortals' news office," Hera said, showing her Android, "and there's been lightning for the past hour, but no thunder whatsoever. As if your fearsome reputation isn't already down in the sewers."

Zeus had to disagree. "Let them speculate. It's fun hearing theories that their government is faking rainy weather forecasts so everyone can stay inside!"

Hera pushed back her fold-out chair and pressed her manicured hands on the table. Wind whipped her hair askew. "Have you ever considered that you're neglecting our family duties in favour of indulging in mortal affairs? Mount Olympus has modernized, of course, and everyone sees the benefits of technology. But you have taken it too far.

"What about family bonding time? I feel our children are growing even more distant. And regardless of your adultery, I intend to treat Apollo, Artemis, and everyone else fairly."

Zeus avoided the deep shadows under his wife's eyes; even with make-up, Hera wasn't looking her best. And neither was he. But he didn't have the heart to tell her that there was nothing to bond over. It felt artificial, stilted. His hand crept back to his phone. He craved an escape, a place where he can just relax. "They're not children anymore. They're grown adults. And I'm doing my job just fine."

Avoiding his wife's gaze, he leaned back on his chair to take another selfie—and promptly crashed to the ground. His disassembled fold-out chair clattered beside him.

"What's happening upstairs?" Athena shouted from below.

Hera rolled her eyes and held up the screw from Zeus' fold-out chair.. "A few loose screws, that's all. Remind your dear father to never bring his phone to the table again!"

Inspired by what a friend said to me when we witnessed lightning growing closer and closer from the horizon but there was no thunder. Also I'm not a big theorizer, but our weather forecast has been *unusually* inaccurate. Just saying.