II. The Secret

The wind carried a golden secret for at least
8 weeks before dropping it like a tortured bedroom
slipper into a Nordic hamlet. This was unforgettable
among the blossoming merchants, for they had just
rediscovered sound as a means of stimulating time.
When the young entrepeneur, Rkjvl, began
communicating successfully with a garden
implement merely by using his knuckles,
most of the townsfolk checked, utterly greasing
chimneys by mid-mornings. With a profusion
of dull, wooden thuds, Mamma Tdnkwr
gathered the lopsided components to stack
before an oncoming rush of ingenious air,
but it was hardly fashionable to do so
without telling the sun. Many of the children
learned the secret by bathing in a very
persuasive terrace of expletives. The elderly
were not interested, because they had, by
some fluke of atmospheric conditions and by
readjusting the volume knob during commercial
dialogue, dug into the cobblestone that yielded
vowels, thus making it possible to keep diaries
of happenings, as opposed to naming comets.
"One potato-five!" exclaimed the
local professor, but little did he know.....

The business community thrived on the
crest of Rkjvl and his new resort invention,
the labyrinth of flames, and a Renaissance
began. Suddenly fear was an omen of
things that had already happened, and
sexual ecstasy found its place only at
the Friseur.

The wind continued to wander its way
northward like a magnetic serpent. Having
given birth to a secret and losing it
above Sweden proved pungent.

3/1/89

©Evan Hause

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