she stands on the corner of the street
where main and 5th collide
thirty six and a half feet
from a familiar shadow
cast onto the pavement.
pristine white wings
wispy feathers overlapping
the watery morning
buildings up above
she seems so small
tears that flow and fade
dark smudges on her cheeks
wisps of hair fraying.
a soft smile.
"i'm still trying to save you."
Did it Work?
The goggles hummed gently as Josiah twisted the finishing piece on. He'd made it through several test runs without the lab catching on fire so this was the first real test. He slipped the goggles on and tightened them with ease then flipped the switch. Immediately, a pinpoint of light flashed before his left eye. It drew closer and closer, burning Josiah's corneas with pure white light. The wooshing of the air went from sounding like a plane taking off to deafening screeching. The room became a cold vortex and Josiah's head burned and spun. He fell to his knees, shielding his face from the void of white. His stomach was a tsunami of soup and his brain was on fire. His lips were murmuring pleas in tongues he couldn't understand.
Suddenly, his ringing ears picked up a rich female voice. "Take them off."
"I can't," he sobbed. "I can't see."
Josiah stood and felt the goggles slip off his eyes. He blinked but saw nothing but pure white. He felt a hand on his forehead, then his body crumpled. He awoke in his lab alone. Vomit and blood stained the floor and his lab coat. The goggles were shattered in a far corner. A panging headache was ringing in his ears. He lay on the floor, thanking Jesus that the experience was over. Eventually, he managed to stand and fumbled for his journal. The plans were still open, with a blank observation space waiting for him. He stared for several minutes. Bright was the first word he got down. Loud. Pain. He stopped and inspected his shaky handwriting. No one would believe him. He tore the page out halfway and felt something stop him. The future needs to know. He let go of the page and sat in his lab chair, looking at the stained ends of his jacket. The headache was reduced to a dull ringing. His stomach stopped swirling.
What did you see, something asked him. He twirled his pen. There was no discernable answer. All there was was loud whiteness. Pure light. He jotted it down, bit his lip, and skimmed it again. Thunder. The sound of wind from the source. Ezekiel. The last word came from nowhere. He didn't know any Ezekiels. Yet, he dragged his pen under it several times. Ezekiel. That was the key to whatever he just saw. He slipped his jacket off and grabbed some Vesphene to clean the floor. Ezekiel danced in his mind. An Amish name. He hadn't been out to Pennsylvania in some time. Maybe he could go. Maybe getting out of the lab would help him. He'd spent sleepless months on these goggles that shattered in seconds. Days of caffeine-driven report reading and hypothesizing. It's no way to live, he concluded.
He left the Vesphene-soaked paper towels on the floor and sat on his knees in front of it. What had he missed in life while seeking some way to see the unknown? He didn't know but for the first time in years, he wanted to know.
"Did you remember to bring it?" Thug #1 says.
Thug #2 fumbles into his back pocket located near the back of his knees. "I can't get over how small this thing is. It looks like one of them cat lasers."
The young men duck inside an ally between two city buildings. The nighttime helps to conceal them.
"Hey," says Thug #1. "Try it out on me."
Thug #2 points at Thug #1 and pushes the little button. "Ain't nothing there man."
He points at himself and pushes the button. "I don't believe in bitchin' angels. Why did we snatch this piece of shit?"
"Shhh!" The men hear uneven stumbling footprints approaching. Peering out from the ally they see a man holding a bottle of liquor. He is tattered and dirty.
Thug #1 says, "Check him out." Thug#2 points and presses the button. Suddenly they see glowing wings just above and behind him.
"What the f#ck!" Thug #2 says, "You feelin' like a drink?"
"He ain't got nothing we want. We want cash man, bling!"
The elderly man stumbles past.
Business for the thugs is so slow; they decide to move to where restaurants would be closing for the night. The lights inside Ching's Diner turn off. They watch as an employee exits and locks up. They see the bank bag under his arm.
Thug#2 is so excited he forgets the little device. Thug #1 says, "Alright. Let's make him our bitch and take the cash." They pop out of the shadows in front of the Asian man. He stops.
"What do you want?" the man asks.
Thug #1 flips out a knife. The Asian man knocks it out of his hand using a round kick and proceeds to kick the shit out of the two thugs. Dazed and incapacitated they orient to cops and sirens in the near distance.
Thug #2 points the gadget at the Asian. Several sets of bright wings nearly blind them.
They will remain in the state prison for many years.
The Angel gadget is now the most valuable tool for mankind. You just don't mess with God's kids.
A protractor helps you see angles. A protractor 2.0, on the other hand, helps you see angels.
20 years ago, Dr. Marylin L. Boundsworth created this device in her garage. Here is her story-
Marylin kept glancing at the red polaroid camera- looking device in her lap, which probably wasn't safe considering that she was driving. Driving to her local church, to be precise. To test out her newest invention, to be even more precise. You see, Marylin had already been working for a few months on her angel-seeker, as she called it at the time, (the device's name was officially changed in 3021 for no particular reason) but she hadn't gotten a chance to test it out at a church yet. Or at all. She hadn't actually seen an angle yet, but she was a fairly optimistic person. And she started to regret this test as soon as she pulled into the church's gravelly parking lot. It had started pouring.
"Always such gloomy weather..." she mumbled as she reluctantly got out of her car, holding the machine close to her chest. "Gloomy and cold..." she sighed as she strode over the cracked asphalt to the building.
And this accursed asphalt was what caused her to trip and black out and wake up in a hospital staring into a medical light that seemed brighter than the sun. After a millisecond though, she realized it wasn't a medical light... It was the shining of angel wings! Or not. She didn't know. But what she did know was that her angel-seeker was probably more busted than her head (which felt like it was splitting open at the moment, and the doctors talking at her didn't make it any better).
And that's what blocked everything else out a second later. The doctors. Marylin froze- though she was already still (being subject to a muscle relaxant for the operation), so she just became more frozen I guess. But she was frozen in terror now. Frozen because it was grotesque twisted faces staring at her. Or maybe- frozen in awe. The angel- seeker had worked. Kinda. Not how she was expecting... but these were the angels from old. The angels as written in the Bible. The angels that needed a warning label. The 'Do not be afraid...' angels.
When she could make out words, the first thing Marylin said was "we need to upgrade our holiday ornaments to be more accurate..." and that is how she became inventor of the Protractor 2.0 and an angel advocate. The end.