He was, by no means, a fragile man. His unkempt blonde hair sat on a frame that easily filled a doorway. Muscle striations and bulbous veins pushed up against his sun-darkened skin, turning the landscape of his arms into a organic relief map. While his physical prowess captured the eyes of women, along with the envy of men; it masked an emotional storm within. He felt shame with each thought towards his obsession. He would see his love sitting on the kitchen counter; waiting to darken his toast each morning. He knew there is no love stronger than between a man and his toaster. “I shall see you after work, my shiny friend,” he said as he left for work. But would the world ever understand?