From Delilah Supreme-Creator Ii - Poem by Morgan Michaels
For once, Donnie was glad they weren't connected to the waiting room by intercom. He would have felt odd summoning-in someone named that over a loud-speaker. So, he simply strolled to the end of the corridor and hollered
'Delilah Supreme-Creator', interested to see who popped up.
It was the end of the day and Donnie was tired, but he hadn't lost his sense of place. He called out the name with an utter lack of elan, in a tone of more or less perfect dead-pan, to boot. In the process, he achieved what approached a perfect matter-of-fact-ness that might have sounded haughty, but wasn't really. He was only determined to proceed with correctness and...well, the appropriate blase.
But, 'The nerve', he thought, 'of someone to name themselves that'.
It wasn't because the name was inncongrous to the person who popped up, that his ire was furthered; hardly- but that the person who popped-up seemed better suited for the circus than the heavens. Ire, in this case, was partly disappointment. She...
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