"No, Meredith, he's not going to...That car'll make it to the moon before she..." Light blazed across the screen. Hate the way sunset catches these wings. Pinions still ash and heat shimmer, far enough from my back that they're just an illusion. Like the sarcasm I learned from this. He flipped the phone over to watch the sunset in the case. For a heartbeat, until glory stole even that view from his nerveless fingers, everything was light-washed, clean. He banged his fists to his knees. You could add all the sarcastic narration you liked, no angelic voice--no angel's human-seeming face--would trouble social media. Maybe they didn't need him. Didn't need his lessons. He threw his arms over the back of the old couch, kicked his feet out into the scrub. Maybe someone would figure out how to capture a video testament. Ask for help. Not for him.
Carrie brought us a group of great prompts this week but I've been really distracted lately and didn't feel up to sharing during the meeting. I'm still working on a brief vacation story (short! tiny! silly!) and hope it'll be ready by next week. :) The purple text above was added while I typed this up. Is it possible to type without editing?
-- chrissa
I am so sorry it took me this long to find my way here Chrissa. I love this and it would be wonderful it the story delightfully continues!
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