Desolation
When the door closes, breath escapes from between my teeth with a hiss. I let the fruit drop. It lands on my uneaten porridge with a soft plop.
"Why great Dyis Ira have you let me fall into such a position? What had I done? I would willingly give my sight to replay the last candle's events," I silently groan into my hands.
My head rests in my fists for several breaths, then I sit up and rescue the abandoned strawberry from its lake of porridge and take a bite. The tangy sweetness of the fruit combined with the plain oats complement each other.
Since the Immortal Lord has now vacated the premises, my stomach wrings like a wash rag. In response, I grab another strawberry and dip it in the warm gruel.
