Finally taking his sable cloak off and removing his thick, warm coat, he sat down with only the light tunic woven of black fabric resting on his tired torso, finally lying flat on his back as he spread his arms as if making a snow angel.
"...I'm on a bed," he smiled.
It had become such a foreign concept to him within the bowels of the hellish realm; just feeling the soft, cushiony feeling of the bed pressed against his taut and tired back almost made him want to cry.
"Fight, fight, fight," those are the words that embedded themselves into his mind--the words that represented Purgatory most.
It's fine if I rest, right? Nothing bad will happen?...Is it really okay? I suppose...I can, he thought.
Settling himself into the comfort of the cushiony bed, he placed his head gently against the softness of the pillow, allowing his eyelids to shut slowly.
It's so soft...It reminds me of home, he thought.
