Solitude

She'd left. Aye, that she did. Why? Why did she leave? Oh, never mind that. This is all she left to me. This box. This chamber of Solitude. Whilst you call it a bedroom, I call it Hell and in Hell I am. See, without a savior, this is the only place I could possibly be. My savior is gone, and this chamber has been left to me. Does that make me the Devil? Only time will tell...although, I can feel these horns grow, and the temperature rise... Perhaps next I should invest in a trident. Though obviously a stolen concept from Greek Mythology, I wouldn't fit the part without it. Demons? Demons. I can hear them now. I can hear their footsteps coming closer. Closer still. They're almost to the door now. I haven't moved from this spot in bed all morning, why cover myself now? No, if it's a fight they want it's a fight they'll get! But I don't feel courage, no. No. I feel fear. I feel the sweat trickle down my forehead and the hairs on my body raise in some primitive defense, no doubt. Dear God, the handle. The handle is moving. They're coming in. Do I have time to pray? Do I have time to ask forgiveness? Do I have... "Honey, what the Hell are you still doing in bed? I tried waking you an hour ago." My wife. My wife? "Where'd you go...?" I pondered aloud. "I picked up breakfast, you loony bastard. I figured you'd sleep in 'till I got back." She clearly wasn't at all pleased with my lack of enthusiasm for the 'Morning Routine', but to be fair, who the Hell is? That's when I began to wonder, why do we have this 'Morning Routine'? It's obviously not natural, and in any wa..."Hey!" She'd nearly spat on me with that one, "Focus. I bought pastries and crescents. And that repulsive coffee you like. Get your lazy ass up and get eatin'." Truly, perhaps she is a demon. Only a woman possessed would buy a man breakfast whilst he sleeps in...and if so, I'm glad I married it. As I made my way to the kitchen, however, I'd noticed from afar the stench of some tropical abomination. Closer, and faster I walked until I was nearly upon...coconut. She'd bought me a coconut pastry. So the legends are true... I married a very...very evil woman.