Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father
“Xenia’s voice cut through a thick layer of static on the baby monitor. Saint rose, rubbed his eyes and turned on his side.
“I told you about this, and you won’t do anything.” The woman spoke calmly, but the words were clearly not coming forth from a person holding onto any semblance of sanity. He sighed, yawned and slid on his slippers. He had no idea what time it was, but moments earlier, Isis was making noises and Xenia touched his shoulder, letting him know she was going to go see to her. He’d been marinating in post-sexual bliss, in a dead sleep where only purple haze dwelled. He didn’t even dream; his nerve endings painted all the pictures he needed. Now, that euphoria was snuffed out like a cigar.
He opened Isis’ door and peered inside the enchanted place. All that was missing were floating fairies dressed in pink, glowing tulle gowns and a golden seesaw with large, green, glassy-eyed bears wearing kind smiles. The room smelled sweet, like freshly baked sugar cookies.
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