Never one to live within the boundaries of convention, Silas stood in the center of his attic.
As a bulb swayed from the cyclone’s winds, his shadow mimicked each whip crack.
Rearing back, Silas bellowed, “Down, Samson, down.”
The inflatable lion complied with a short bark and a prolonged hiss.
Craig Holzschuh is unpublished, unemployed, and unavailable for weddings or Bar Mitzvahs. He is currently contemplating a run for political office or just a trip to the fridge.