Fall
I stood at the edge of the chasm, looking down as the pretty ones start their descent, looking back at the sad eyes and wings and postures and the few harsh glares among them at our proud backs, the I-love-you's fare-thee-well's in my ears and the I-will-not-serve pounding in my heart and head, and a sudden rush of fall before my now-black wings snap open and I join them as they circle down to our new dominion, the sound of Uriel-Raphael-Gabriel-Michael laughing following us down as they discuss the new seat to fill, God's eyes and the eyes of the rest of Heaven having eyes only for us.
Back