Once upon a stormy night….

dated: 03/08/2009

A poem I wrote, based on a dream I once had.

Once Upon a Stormy Night

A rainy night
A deserted street
No one in sight
In the dark retreat.

The distant rumbling thunder
The croaking crickets
The only sounds that sundered
The rain’s monotonous racket.

Suddenly, a movement in the distance
A cat’s purr
An owl’s hooting askance
All at the same instance occurred.

Gradual illumination of the dark street
By a pair of emerging headlights
Like a phantom covering a regular beat
Impervious to the stormy night.

A car announced its arrival
With a screeching halt
The owl hooted its disapproval
As a man stepped out onto the asphalt.

This stout man, who was expensively dressed
And wore shoes of patented leather
Swore out loudly in disgust and detest
As he realized his apparel would be ruined by the weather.

He saw a figure emerge out of the darkness
Steadily walking towards him
The owl, surprised by the new arrival’s abruptness
Hooted again loudly in an expression of its whim.

He seemed appropriately dressed for the weather
As if he had been waiting
In a large trench coat and boots of water resistant leather
In anticipation of this meeting.

The stout man cried out
“Sir, a flat has crippled my car
Please do help me out
You’re my only hope, the nearest help is much too far”.

The other man replied,
“Yes, I will help you
But let there be no lies
I shot at your tire and caused the flat that you now wish to subdue”.

The stout man
As his puzzled expression showed
Did not seem to understand
That he would not go further down the road.

The trench coated man added
“Someone has signed your death warrant
And hired me to execute the deed
At this chosen place, in this torrent”.

And then, he drew a Beretta semi automatic handgun
Fired two shots in quick succession
And the job was done
With a professional killer’s precision.

The man fell down, lifeless
Blood oozing out of his forehead
He lay there, hapless
On the dark stretch of blacktop: his deathbed.

The owl hooted, much louder this time
The only witness to this perfect crime.
The assassin turned away from the bloody mess
And disappeared into the darkness.

~ by luckyguy902 on March 9, 2009.