Image by Gaston Roulstone

WHAT DOES AN ANGEL DO WITHOUT WINGS 

 ©2020

or the everyday life of a momentary seeker in spirituality way

 
Image by Kelly Sikkema

WHAT DOES AN ANGEL DO WITHOUT WINGS

Chapter One

The angel stood in front of the window, watching the large snowflakes as they flew gently on the back of the cold wind.

She remembered a few feathers falling from his wings while playing football from upstairs. "Raffael always gave good little goal passes. After football, they came in for a glass of nectar at a nearby cafe.

But it was a nice time, what a team. ”And happiness flooded his whole being.

 

Then the dishwasher stopped, he pulled out a tray full of clean plates and started packing.

The day passed slowly. It was already late at night when he went to change. She looked in the mirror for a moment and smiled sadly. "Yeah, no wonder my own daughter didn't even get to know me last time ... and on top of that, I even wore an idiotic mask. is ... "

 

She stepped out the door, the snowfall stopped, you could feel the breath of winter. It was dark, only the shining stars and the bright Full Moon lit up. Loved the

Full moon. She poured the milk on Pajkos, the street kitten, stroked his back, and headed home.

She was already walking down the street and as the fresh snow crackled beneath his footsteps, the wings came to mind again.

"I understand he took the wings, but at least I could use the hot wire. Or the hell it would not hurt if Raffael were here ... We won everything ....

It was mission impossible ... here alone, without connection and wings ... it was easier for James Bond, at least he remembered his training ... but I seemed to have never been upstairs. And the weapons? The shield or the sword? Not even with me, and besides, I didn't get a copy of the contract, so the angel, .. man, must fulfill his mission. "

Then her phone rang. Text from the bank, they could not deduct the rent. "Well, even that. At least they'd make money ... I didn't even pay for the dance lessons."

If you already had the phone in your hand you were looking at FBot to see if your morning writing got this like it or shared it. "How do I do anything with these blind and deaf ... Do I need a good marketer ... or just a good publicity brand? Who's the classy celebrity now? Berki? Or rather I need some lingerie, yes and wings ... Turn a web page really should already be .. "

 

Then she got home. The children rushed to her, and she couldn't move next to them until they fell asleep, even though she was quite hungry. Anyway, her husband is not a kithcen fairy so she can't choose just from the fridge anyway, there's not much there. (Didn't buy in yesterday.)

Somehow, she still managed to get out into the kitchen. She washed the family's set of plates and cutlery waiting for her there orphaned in the sink. Meanwhile,she found some missing lego pieces and hiding plush animals, gave dinner to the kids, and took out the trash.

After bathing, they sat there cuddling in bed, reading tales. Now it was Lázár Ervin Bab Bercije's turn. Yesterday they read how Bab Berci drops her gift, then the dissatisfied stoneman, and now Rimapénteki Rimai Friday, the miraculous. The angel sympathized deeply with the miracle worker. The following tale is Hu from, István Fekete. For the sixth time they read the book "The kids have a good taste" she thought. Hu is just talking with the wind about his dreams, he feels the reality of soaring freely, not the walls that surround him. The kids fell asleep pretty slowly. The angel also settled in, embracing them. "I should sleep, at least this 4 hours, because the call comes at 1 in the morning anyway." But she hadn't closed his eyes yet. She watched the wonderful children. She felt infinite gratitude and happiness, and she thought that in the end they should knew what they were doing up there, and I know, after all, I am an angel ... her eyes closed, with  the thought of "who needs those wings ..." And the wings covered the two sleeping children like a soft warm blanket.

 

At 1 o'clock in the morning the call came exactly. She started writing. When she finished she read it and asked herself ... "why writing, why the tales? ..I never wrote ..." But she didn't get any answer and she didn't even have time to meditate on it because the alarm rang, 6 o'clock, here it's time to get up.

 

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Image by Sharon McCutcheon