Care to sniff the cork sir?...

~ Aiden rang his insurance agent as soon as he and his tabby were checked into the hotel.
Yes, yes his house exploded. No, it wasn't burned down. No, he didn't know how it happened. Yes, he was sure it had exploded. Yes, he knew an investigation would be necessary. Yes, tomorrow would be fine.
He gently returned the phone to it's cradle and immediately it rang.
Aiden was expecting it.
Hello. Yes mom, he was fine. No, she didn't need to fly in, as he'd said in his message. Yes, he'd let her know as soon as he'd heard anything from the insurance. Oh, that's room service at the door. Gotta go.
Aiden sat on the bed for a bit. He went into the bathroom and unwrapped some little soaps. He reentered the bedroom and ate the mint that some hardworking, kindhearted housekeeper had left on his pillow. He untucked the sheets from the foot of the bed.
Aiden had rather claustrophobic feet.
Adrasteia sat observing from the window sill, her languid attention divided between Aiden and a tiny bird hopping about on the balcony, blissfully ignorant of how ridiculously thin the sheet of glass holding back it's feline predator was.
Adrasteia's tail twitched.
Aiden considered really calling room service. It was, after all, nearing lunch time. He rose decisively and strode into the hall, shutting the door with a satisfying click.
Aiden's gung-ho attitude only lasted through the appetizer.
The hotel dining room's authentic French maitre d' hovered over him like a nervous butterfly.
Aiden picked at his food noncommittally.
Was everything alright with Monsieur's entree? Yes, it was fine. Would Monsieur like a coffee instead of wine? A cup of coffee would be delightful.
Aiden was still bitter about not having his morning coffee.
Must the universe take everything from him?
But alas, he knew that there was no point in asking that question.
Aiden sipped at his coffee, and burned his tongue.
Aiden realized that he was what you might call upset. He thought though, that it would probably be difficult for anyone to come to terms with their house exploding, no matter their past experiences.
He lifted the delicate china creamer and noticed that his hand was shaking.
Aiden asked the attentive maitre d' if he could have his food wrapped. ~
~ Mine, gimme.
A Selfish Production