It was at least seven feet tall, with creamy-white skin, displaying itself as what she later recognised as the classic-style: shining, fully-robed, its halo like a mane of golden sunshine.
And male. Definitely a man. Or was it?
She had to look twice to be sure. The body was certainly male, and so was the face-structure, but weren't those lips curiously soft and full, the contour of the eyes almost feminine? Six years later, having devoured everything she could find about angels, she knew the term to apply: androgynous. An appearance neither exclusively male nor female, but somehow both.
The visit took place on a warm night. She'd been fast asleep in her open-windowed bedroom when the curtain slowly swirled and there he was, like the perfection of a dream- a glorious angel in the dead of night. He was huge. He seemed too big for her room, or any room for that matter. Despite which, awakening, she hadn't been alarmed, not afraid at all.
An angel. An actual angel.
To gaze in wonder at such a thing.
She fell in love with his wings at once. Supple feathers. Tips as smooth as the afterglow of sunsets. Just seeing them had made the girl hunger for wide spaces. And when she reached out to touch them it was like dipping her fingers in light itself.
But the way the bulky, complex wing joints entered the shoulder blades scared her. Creeping from behind him to sneak a peek, she'd seen how twisted and gnarled it was back there. Didn't his shoulders hurt? Surely they must ache from having to hold up such big wings all the time?
'No,' the angel had replied. A subtle, airy voice. A dying eagle on a last flight over one more mountain might have sounded like this.
But it was what the angel did next that shocked her. For years afterwards the little girl had trouble controlling her emotions whenever she recalled it. Because tears had sprung from his eyes. Tears that poured freely over his unblemished cheeks, across his sculpted lips and down his smooth throat.
'Are you sad?' It was all the little girl could think to say at the time. 'What's the matter?' And wanting to comfort him, but not knowing how, she'd taken one of his wings, draping it around her. But it was too heavy to hold. That particular detail stuck in her mind- attempting to lift the wing, but unable to; hauling it up, but feeling it forever slipping away from her grasp.
In the end the angel had turned his broad back, preparing to leave.
'Don't go!' The poor girl had screamed, unable to bear the thought of losing him. 'What are you doing? Don't go without me.'
And perhaps if the angel had just flown away then, done nothing else, the little girl might have been able to forget him. She might have been able to convince herself that his visit was merely the product of an overactive imagination or a peculiarly vivid dream. But how could she have dreamed up what happened next? For the angel had knelt- actually knelt- before her, lowered his proud, beautiful head to the level of her heart and peered inside there. It was such a physical experience that she'd almost felt the small bones of her ribs being moved aside. The gaze was direct, the way a knife is direct.
And then the angel said this; 'I cannot remain. Someone is calling. I am needed elsewhere.'
A gentle kiss on the forehead, and he was gone.
She'd rushed to the window, of course, to see him fly, but he was already out of sight, those wings too fast for her.
The little girl had waited for him to come back. She still remembered the exact spot near the window where she'd stood, toes digging into the carpet. But as the hours lengthened, and there was no sign of him, a new worry had crept into her little mind. It was dark out there. Maybe he was lost. Did angels have special eyes to see at night? Concerned that he might bump into things and hurt himself, she'd forced herself to stay awake so she could guide him if he got into trouble. All night she waited there, standing near the window, a cold little girl calling softly and forlornly into an empty sky.
Angel; by Cliff McNish.
... Funny name ^^
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I think there's more but the internet is horrible to me. Oh wells.
