by KUBOA
When the phone rang at 3am, John knew it was the Minotaur. He turned over in his bed but Alison nudged him in the ribs.
“It could be important,” she said. “Someone might have died.”
No one had died. At the most, maybe someone was hurt. But John knew that whenever the phone rang this late it meant the Minotaur had either been in a fight, or had broken up with his current girlfriend, whoever that was.
“John,” pleaded his wife.
John laboured a sigh before picking up the receiver. On the other end, he heard the unmistakeable noise of the Minotaur’s breathing.
“So which have you had broken?” asked John, “your nose, or your heart?”
From the other end of the phone, the Minotaur spoke, “Neither,” he said. “I’m scared.”