Thursday, April 26, 2007

S.O.G.: Deux de pas

The sandaled one brustled about the dank cavern. Grey dust was thick in the air, and above his cavernous ruin its clouds danced on the bright beams of a sun, reflected from that dead, dusty moon, far, far above.

Bright white light was at the entry-way bathing its rocky welcome mat, and the clouds of dust rose like shadows in the night, transparent in luminosity, yet illuminous still in such a dark and dusty place to eyes so long veiled in the darkness of a this, their home; their cave buried deep in this field of battle.

All about was activity.

The wearer's of veil were forbidden from this place, for their mouths knew no discretion. And discretion was key in these times.

"This warrior is a fool. Tonight we wait, as many moons have come and gone, and still...we wait. The enemy is mighty, but he is a fool. He does not recognize that there are those in the world who will be patient. Who will await their turn. It is God's way!," said the tall one "he has waited many years for his justice to be served, and eternity is but a fastidious dream in short afternoon nap for our Father above."

His friend there with him listened as always, attentively. They'd been together since the early wars...where there was fast victory, and a victory that was assured against the red star.

It had not been the case for a number of years. There was this incessant, numbing wait. Waiting for opportunity that seemed never to present itself. Waiting for a break of daylight.

"You are right, wise one. We must wait for the time...and I feel it is near, when our enemy will slip...one break of daylight, granted by God, and we will strike! Like an eel captures its prey from ocean depth, we will rise from this cavern and strike! Praise God. Victory will be ours!".

With that phrase, the dust rose higher as there was a frenzy of enlivened activity. Troops all about them stamped in the dust and in muffled cry they rose, weapons in air, and cursed this enemy who had driven them to this sub-earth hell.


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In a place far from this sub-terranian hell-hole, the peacock strutted his usual strut again. Arists of the "make" "up", were making him up, royally. His greyish, putty look that would ordinarily drive even the leper away was now replaced with the bright colors usually reserved for the women-folk when they'd dress for finding a mate, or for impressing one another.

"Tonight, I hit the airwaves. Tonight, I make the speech that will unite my people. Together, we will bring our nation back to its senses. Away. Away from this maddening war envisioned by childish fools! So much in this world needs attention. Like the spoiled child, our enemy beckons...screams really, in tantrum. As my wise, old pap (and, esteemed predecessor) used to say 'give the child attention, and fuel the tantrum; ignore him, and choke its embers'...my father was such a wise man. He knew his stuff; and tonight, I will make him very proud", this former man of Congress remembered his glory days for a moment, went it was he in the spotlight...when family dynasty was a very real thing. Men close to the great one, that President who'd brought them through such tough and evil times.

He'd had enough of the makeup artists (for they were a bit too close to home), and he rose from his chair like a sinking giant, ready to return to former trimph.

"Mr. VP, do not go on that stage," shouted his monkey-handler "your collar, it still has tissue all about. Here, let me fix it for you!", Tina had always taken care of the aging and bloated politician, as if he were her very own hubby (and, in many ways, he was - for she had no life outside the political ring) "here, let me take care of those before you get powder-cake on your lovely, white color."

He looked at her, adoringly. "I'll see you at our Bible study sister. Now wish me luck. I'm giving our populace the very gates of hell".

And like the muddled peacock-soldier he was, the dodering, old politician rose to a stage set by other's practicing the craft of the liberal guild.

Tonight was truly a defining moment for the beaten giant.

Tongiht he would speak to that enemy in the cave.

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