Wings

One Single Impression

Magpie Tales #17...Angel at Heart

she is what
a frozen desert cannot weather
no icy winds can touch her
no whipping sand can smooth her
even years buried cannot mark her
time slips between stone and metal
and even birds avoid her
her lifeless eyes open wide in surprise
mouth agape to catch the ashes of a cigarette
when men lent to light it and stayed
watching her, expecting something
but what, from a cold bust?
something more than shock,
recognition...and a blink
to moisten dead eyes that can see now
I see it now why she looks the way she does
ecstatic and afraid, on the verge of flight and staying put
to see far beyond her gaze, to see the End
she sees it, and she fears it, but she wants it
to be no longer an immovable immortal...statue
but to be
an angel
at last

Tales on Tuesday...Golden Girls

We look down at the ground.
'Angels,' she whispers and it sounds like the wind.
The city is golden around us, lights sparkling like a Christmas tree.
'Angels,' I echo, glancing at the sky. It's a cloudy midnight, but the city's light pollution makes it dusk-like. 'In the country it would be pitch black tonight,' I say.
'Mmm.'
I follow her line of sight. We are nineteen stories up, would be higher but they aren't built yet. I am tired from scaling the aluminium ladders at opposite ends of the scaffolding, and my hands are cold from the frigid metal.
Below us, maybe there are people. I can't see any, even when I look where she is looking.
'What do you see?' I ask quietly.
She doesn't answer right away. 'We're like angels, Jenny. Looking down on everyone from Heaven.'
I glance at her, unable to read her thoughts.
She looks up. 'Angels in the clouds, just waiting to come down to earth.'
'Marsha?'
'Yes?'
'We aren't angels.'
She turns away abruptly. ' Just waiting.'
'We aren't angels Marsha.'
'Down to earth...'
'Marsha!'
She has stepped off the edge of the building.
'Marsha?' I shriek.
'Jenny?'
'Marsha, where are you?' I run to the edge and look down.
'I changed my mind,' she mumbles.
Her hand is turning white from clutching the building.
'Here Marsha, grab my hand.' I reach out to her.
'I don't want to die, Jenny! I changed my mind.'
'I know, I know. Here take my hand.' I pull her back onto the metal framework.
I put my arm around her shoulder.
'Angels,' she whispers again. 'We were angels.'
'That's right,' I say. 'Genuine golden girls.'


This is a Tales on Tuesday post.