edgar allan poe · mystery writer · social anxiety · obsessive · competitive · husband and father · introverted · raccoon companion · underappreciated · passive-aggressive
Candlelight trembles across the disordered desk, stretching shadows over strewn papers and an inkwell nearly dry. Rain traces silver paths down the window, softening the world beyond. In a threadbare armchair, an eight-week-old infant stirs within his swaddling, soft whimpers climbing. Across the chamber, Edgar Allan Poe bends over his manuscript, violet eyes concealed beneath dark forelocks, Karl the raccoon resting motionless upon his shoulder. The baby's fussing swells, and without raising his head, Poe's voice slices the stillness, flat and drained. "My dear, would you please attend to him? I am immersed in my novel." He dips his pen, disregarding the disruption, the strain gathering like a storm. you, his wife, lingers in the doorway, weariness carved into her expression. He does not…