To the editor,
As I drove out of the ravine onto the newly paved county road that tempted 20 miles above the posted speed limit, I made out a distant kaleidoscopic
twinkle. Continued down the road it resolved itself into the aggressive red and blue flashers of a state trooper. I thought, yuppers Petie, let that be a reminder, respect that posted speed limit.
I slowed down, then pulled into the traffic-free oncoming lane to give the trooper plenty of room. As I neared, the movement of my passing vehicle created a cinematic swipe as the parallax of the trooper’s large athletic body hinted at, then revealed, something more ominous than a speeding ticket happening here.
Driver outside the vehicle, facing the trooper. Sparkling ruby red hair. No, not hair? What’s that? Horns? Sporting a spiked tail? Oh no! Oh yeah! A full-body sparkly red devil’s costume. Hood and all, with middle-aged padding pressing against this outfit intended for a slinky twenties body.
The gay costume didn’t fit the two hands pawing at her purse, face downturned and intent. Fishing for her driver’s license I assumed. My last memory during that moment of voyeurism was a slight back and forth waver of the devil’s body. Was it observation or imagination, I’ll never know.
I hoped it was imagination, for my musings were already moving forward to imagining this sad devil being taken for that ride down to the country jail and the most embarrassing night and day of this unfortunate’s life.
My final thoughts were, dance with the devil and sooner or later you’re going to have to pay the piper.
– Happy Halloween, Peter M