Danger

Danger

Ron Koppelberger

From the beginning to the end sloppy brilliance was unmovable, wrenched out of the shape he became fixed by. Profit Hard pictured fleshy morsels of tender prediction for his keystone house. He amended the ground with exceeding danger. The wager was meager in inexorable gospel, flexible yet dangerous he thought. Entire battlefields of victory depended on the terror the absolute ado of his dwelling.
Twitters and bursting spoils proffered the reward, of what he wondered, meager thrall, simple backwash assurance, tantalizing demons of err perhaps, mind over monster, mind over monster he though as the danger loomed from beneath the house.
Heedless he would favor the area, the house of concrete and mud, the caprice of it he thought as the demon approached on two legs. Docile passages filled his head and Profit sniffed at the air, human perhaps, monster absolute he agreed in the end. Bondage to danger and fearful tears of allocated disturbance, he volunteered his will, his energy, his spirit and the substance of his righteousness. The creature, portraits of delirium and decrees of opium gold filled his eyes for a moment, what is it he wondered. Maroon seas swam before it and the world of the living vanished for an instant. The danger, the danger……..prim and upright yet yelping like a beast from hell, the danger, the danger what was it he thought again? Rebelling from the mists the tide that threatened to kill his essence at every moment he retreated into the house and locked the doors. Someday he would be free to leave but for now there was the monster and the fear and the undeniable future wrought in blood.