I once heard a story from a homeless man. He was raw with life and seemed believable. He said once a year fallen angels are forced to have their wings clipped or otherwise lose their immortality. Most of those who remember choose the operation on their wings. They all line up outside the surgery, some glugging bottles of whisky, others with prostitutes in tow to comfort them while their wings are cut to stubs. For miles you can hear the screams.
"I thought they could tell me what heaven is like," the homeless man said. "But none of them could remember."
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What a sad tale. I love the phrase "raw with life." Nice job.
ReplyDeleteSo immortality is more important than pain of wing clipping.No wonder they don't remember heaven...
ReplyDeleteThis is so sad, but so well written. I like it!
ReplyDeleteTerrific! So much done with so few words, I am jealous.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, David!
ReplyDelete(Angels drinking whiskey and harbouring prostitutes! heh!)
This is really well written, with the exception of the difference between having their wings "clipped" and having their wings "cut". Did you mean cut off? In Aviary talk, clipped means the flight-feathers are cut at an angle to disable flight. I think that if this was made clearer, it would strike with a louder resonance. Then again, maybe I just know too much about birds. >.>
ReplyDeleteBravo David. Best.
Like Carrie, I was confused between clipping and cutting. If they have to be chopped off entirely every year that they desire to remain immortal, that's quite brutal. But thinking of Dante, the know all about Brutus and brutality, don't they?
ReplyDeleteNeat imagery here. The clipping and cutting threw me a bit, too, but still loved this one. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThe end of this gave me shivers. Sharp and well written.
ReplyDeleteI stopped and reread "raw with life" it was such a great phrase. The last sentence is perfect.
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