It should have been a routine operation, an excursion into the fridge as part of my usual preparation for dinner. I was reaching for a potato when I drew my hand back.
There it was, as plain as the quest for women's equality is long. The face of satan. Those perfectly symmetrical horns. That expression....well, it was a little blank.
It had to be a red potato too.
I couldn't look away. There was something in his gaze, even though it was well, sort of non-descript.
But still, taking no chances, I quickly closed the door and ordered takeout.
