“Almost”, he said. Leaping up to answer the sound of a doorbell echoing against the beat of his heart. Slipping on the freshly waxed wood, nearly completing the splits, he was amazed at his recovery. All the while someone waited.

In background, humans mumbling, discussing the innocuous bullet points of burden, worry and those which “must” be done. At penalty of self penury he scrambled to place his bets on uncertain outcomes. No one paid him any mind.

The risk too great of embarrassment they humbled themselves denying the pleasure they so often found in brief meeting. Walking away, the mystic power of disrepair while they themselves were beguiled.

No muscles were flexed even mentally. All awaited the opportunity to be led indefinitely. What reason delighted the elders never bothered their incessant youth. They were left to their own disregard of wisdom and trappings of maturity and mercy.

To the dungeons they lay waiting, planting snare for the unsuspecting. To capture, conquer and claim dominion over the minds and hearts of lesser men. Men deceived into believing themselves righteous and of solid character in moral regard.

What freedom is felt in the man mired in partner’s calamity or debt? What hope of Godly achievement when dealing with the toils and cauldrons of witchcraft and divination? When did they find their way to the treasury and what sought they in robbery?

Clumsily he pushed back against the table, his chair making screeching sounds, all cringed. He never meant to go that far and now dizzily sought the nearest exit. Shame and pain were superior to the vex of mind, heart and spirit.

His lungs ceased function. He fell headlong into behavior and avatar of someone else’s concoction. There would be no mercy when the master returned in expectation of command complete. Tapestry woven he could do naught but stare at its completion.