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My home was the definition of "perfect", and by perfect, I meant perfectly still.

Not an utter of noise coming from children's crying or fighting, no screaming and arguing from a wife, no disturbing sound from the television or radio - all in all, no distraction at all. Especially while I was having a man-to-fish word of advise with my only roommate, Sam triple zero eight.

"Do tell me Sam triple zero eight, how is it that the woman from page two hundred and twenty three was totally mad?" I asked him and he was lost in deep thought. It was a befuddling question indeed, "perhaps she was cursed?" I asked again, and the wind gushed in via my open windows. "Sam triple zero eight, do say something." Snorting at my funny question I realized why my roommate hadn't uttered any reply. "I know right? There is no such thing as a curse."

Sunday morning was going so well as it usually did. It was my day off like it used to be every Sundays and I was having the day of my life.

You see, I whisked a