Azazel
Who is the suicidal banging on my door like a damned? I angrily look at my alarm clock. Damn it! 9 am! Seriously, a m******e will take place if the BOOM BOOM on my door does not stop very fast. My dog, Cerberus, does not appreciate more than I do waking up with such fanfare, and he stretches out his whole length without actually getting up. I open my mind to get an idea of the urgency of the situation and I am haunted by a multitude of disordered thoughts that make my head ache more than the worst hangover. I close like an oyster and I extend my hand to scratch my four-legged friend's head between his ears. I know exactly whose mind could be so tormented and I also know that this person will not leave without having seen me. I grab and put on a pajama bottom before opening the door
