They were out of bread. Naturally. Who would have fetched it? Apollo, who sat in the parlor, misquoting Homer? Epimetheus, who celebrated his freedom from Pandora by relinquishing all material goods, except those that weren’t his? Cerberus, whom the Furies had left ‘just for an hour, and please take him for a walk if he gets antsy’, and who lay snoring on the hearth, one head each in the laps of Aphrodite, Hermes, and Eurydice?
Prometheus looked around the little kitchen. A platter of golden, soft ambrosia, a jug of sweet nectar, a bowl of fruit, a handful of olives. No bread.

“Gods in Reduced Circumstances”

About the story: Where Olympian gods go to retire.
Triggered by HG Wells, and based on a Richard Garnett story.