When I was cleaning the toilet I killed my angel because I brushed her off my sleeve. to be fair, the devil suffered a fall as well, but he only dropped a few feet.
The porcelain surface gleamed in the light cast by the single bulb flickering valiantly to stay alight like the little engine who could.
The bathroom was my place of refuge, it seemed like the only place I received some privacy whenever my parents were home. I reverently removed my Superman wrist watch and placed it on the sink alongside my vintage Spiderman lunchbox complete with a thermos and collapsible spoon.
Inside the thermos I had hidden a pack of razors I swiped from Jim’s Hardware store; he was nearly blind, but liked me because I always cleaned his yard. I set the razors on the edge of the bathtub for a moment and only looked at them.
When someone knocked on the door I refused to answer.