Ogleo

Ogleo peaked through the crack of his bedroom door. He heard his mother’s door to her bedroom close for the night and the faint click of the light switch turn off. He stepped out into the hall, flashlight in hand and proceeded on his nightly ritual to his father’s great library occasionally shocking himself from the static electricity he caused by his socks rubbing against the recently steamed carpet. Of course, his mother knew where he was going and he knew that she knew. It was all a part of a ritual with the finale coming at 6:30 each morning where she would find him in his fathers leather recliner fast asleep with any number of books lying about him.