Everytime Pluto: A Short Story

Everytime Pluto came by with the cook, I would hold my breath. I haven't eaten a morsel in nearly three days but I refuse to give into his attempts.
I could hear their steps as they approched me. I immeditalety held my breath.
"Doesn't this smell delighful, Proserpina? Would you like a taste?"
I ingored the temptation. Maybe if I continued to ingore him, he would let me go out of anger.
Several days have passed. I was beginning to feel depressed-the underworld was a dark and dreary