Entry #156

Black Angels
by Danielle Rickel


“I think it’s an angel Tom.”

“It’s just a bird Phil.”

“It’s not, it’s beautiful, look now there’s two. One for each of us.”

“It’s getting dark, you’re delusional, they’re only birds.”

“Can’t you feel the breeze from their wings, it’s like a fine silk caressing my skin. Their smell will be as intoxicating as a fine wine.”

“Like you’ve ever known the feel of a fine silk, or the smell of a fine wine, besides the fact that you can’t feel anything Phil, or smell anything. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Never again.”

“Stop being such a downer Tom. Look, more angels have come, they’re getting closer.”

“Angels wouldn’t want us, ever, we’ve committed too many sins too many times. They’re birds, just stupid birds, probably come to peck our eyes out or something.”

“Our eyes aren’t what’s important to them.”

“You’re kind of starting to freak me out.”

“See the play of light on their wings, it looks like oil, or maybe more silk. No, not silk, it’s too glossy. They’re almost here now, I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

“Good God you’re losing it Phil.”

“They have nothing to do with God Tom, please don’t insult them.”

“I thought you said they’re angels?”

“Well Tom, I never said what kind of angels.”

“Oh. Shit.”