Unto The Night

Unto The Night
Amazon.com/ron koppelberger

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Rough House

Ron Koppelberger
The punishment for practicing rebel materialism was a squeeze in the roughhouse summons, the call to claim, the wont of a dire advance. The weak bawl of lockup orders was what Olympia Hillock contemplated in opiate exclamations. “Unholy smoke, I ain’t in the midnight crew, bless this mess and forgo the screw.” she said in defiance to the nighttime wash, the cold crew, the crazy bastards had ciphered the bosses safe. Diamonds, cash and flourishes of gold,……..inmate No. 287465241, Olympia H. The shelter of her ignorance was little consolation as she had been named the understudy and her innocence in the charade was in question.
Rich (Iguana) Garner had given her a diamond bracelet from the bosses safe. Rich was on the midnight crew, the shadowy shape of a penitentiary class, janitors and thieves. Olympia listened through the heavy oak doors as Asmodeous P. Utmost roughhoused Rich, his punishment for the safecracking. His screams were a poignant instruction in testimony to Asmodeouses anger. The secretary in the outer office glanced at Olympia her coffee jumping in a splash as something slammed against the office door, a moaning breach of sound filtered in through the oaken door as a bolero of roughhouse dread filled the room in dark waves of fear and tempered forbidding. Rich staggered back through the office door. The secretary pointed to Olympia and in harpy disregard she said “Go on in sweetie!”
Olympia stood in forlorn repose as she paused for a moment, then she ventured into Asmodeouses office. In fields of gold she thought forcefully, fields of saffron and wheat she pleaded. Her prayers were silent in contrast to the billowing demon, “ Wild witch, GET IN HERE!” she cringed and expanded her consciousness in savory amber waves of light. Saffron safety, saffron security, she thought. Moments later as Amadeus raised his fist she found herself in a vast oasis of wheat, fields of gold scented with sunshine fragrance. In august heat and comforting harmony she touched a wheat stalk and sighed with reverent awe.

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