Page 16 of Cuddly Demon

"Learning about drag queens," I reply, smiling as I nod at the TV.

Saint raises an eyebrow. "You're really getting into modern culture, aren't you?"

"I find it fascinating," I say, setting the remote down and turning to face him. "There's so much to learn about this world."

Saint chuckles. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"Hey, Onyx," he says, not looking up. "Do you think you could help me with this essay?"

"Of course," I say, standing up to join him at the table. "What's the topic?"

"Shakespeare's use of symbolism in Hamlet," Saint says, pushing the book towards me. "I'm having trouble analyzing it."

I take a look at the book and begin flipping through the pages. "Tell me about the plot."

"Well, it's about a prince who seeks revenge for his father's murder," Saint explains, leaning back in his chair. "There are a lot of themes of death and decay, and I know there's a lot of symbolism in there, but it's hard for me to pick out."

I nod, flipping to a random page and scanning the text. "It sounds like Shakespeare can be quite difficult to analyze without some guidance."

"He sure is."

"Let's try this. Instead of trying to analyze everything at once, let's focus on one symbol and see where it leads us."

Saint looks skeptical but intrigued. "Okay, which symbol?"

"How about the skull?" I suggest, pointing to the scene where Hamlet holds up Yorick's skull.

Saint leans in closer. "This skull might represent the inevitability of death?"

"Exactly," I nod, impressed. "And what about the fact that it's a jester's skull?"

Saint furrows his brow, thinking. "Maybe it symbolizes the fleeting nature of life and how even the most comedic of characters can end up as nothing but bones."

"Brilliant," I say, smiling.

We break down the passages further, pointing out the different symbols and their significance. We work together for hours, analyzing different scenes and symbols and discussing the deeper meanings behind them.

It's a refreshing change from my usual duties as a demon, I must admit. Even though I've never read Shakespeare before, I find myself enjoying the challenge of helping Saint with his studies.

"I wish I'd been born a little later," I joke. "I could provide insight into the influences of ancient plays on Shakespeare. Unfortunately, I only knew of Homer and Hesiod—and then only because my brother Leviathan recited The Iliad and The Odyssey around the dinner table at night. He worked in Greece during the day for a very wealthy master, so he was cultured. From what I've learned on the internet this past week, Greece was still in its infancy then as far as the performing arts were concerned. The heavy hitter tragedians such as Sophocles, Euripides, and Aeschylus hadn't been born yet. Euripides hadn't written his masterpiece Hippolytus yet. I read that yesterday afternoon and it was phenomenal. I mean, God, to have been around to see that performed for the first time. To hear Phaedra's cries as her nurse betrayed her. To watch Hippolytus meet his undeserved fate on the beach or perhaps it was deserved after all because he rejected Aphrodite, and woe to any man who rejects the goddess of Love. Never reject Aphrodite, beautiful boy. I'd never attempt to hide my eyes when she smiled at me."

"I wonder if Homer influenced Shakespeare."

"I would imagine Homer did. I'm not sure of the extent of Homer's popularity over the past couple thousand years, but in my day, he was very popular."

"Let's look it up."

I find it fascinating when we discover a website that says that Shakespeare was indeed influenced by Greek tragedy and epic poetry, including the works of Homer and Hesiod. We delve deeper into the topic, discussing the similarities and differences between Shakespeare's plays and the works of ancient Greek writers.

As the night wears on, my eyelids grow heavy. Saint notices and suggests we take a break.

"Thanks for your help," Saint says, stretching his arms. "I think I have a much better understanding of the play now."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance." I stand up and stretch as well.

Saint's eyes lock on me as I lift my arms above my head. To my surprise, my shirt lifts up, exposing my rock-hard abs.

I turn to look at Saint quizzically, and he opens his mouth to say something—but seems to think better of it. "Have a great sleep."