Devil was an old man that lived in the apartment next to me. I used to see him peering out at the window, with those weary eyes and long gray hair. Instead of a horn, he wore a torn paper mache hat. I waved at him few times and that just made him sneer back. He was clearly at the end of his days. I wanted to go upstairs and talk to him. One day he spat on me. I didn’t get angry. I just ignored him. He used to shut his window after dark. I tried hard to hear something at night, moan, growl, sigh or howl, nothing, nothing at all. Rain or shine he does not disappoint me in the morning though, always there by the window.

One day he wasn’t there. The devil, who was an old man, that lived in the apartment next to me. I saw the door to the stairs wide open. I went up, following the musty smell. I knocked at his door. To my surprise, I saw an handsome young man.