The Last Angel

The Angel of Death alighted on a rooftop and watched the foul smoke coming from the traffic that passed below. A steady gust of wind blew, tainted by the pollution of nearby factories. Reflexively she wrapped her wings around herself, but it was not enough and a wave of nausea caused her to tremble. A solitary feather fell, perfect and white, before being seized in the wind’s greasy fingers.

She had come here to make a choice, a choice that would change the fate of mankind forever. With calculating, inhuman eyes, she looked out across the vast metropolis. She saw everything and everyone, every thought and every deed. Her sight spread across the horizon, expanding exponentially. It spread through time, both to the past and to the possibilities of the future. She saw it all, and was confronted with mankind’s inexhaustible talents to usurp her mantle. She saw how they had killed, and would continue to kill themselves in so many ways, spreading such ugliness and sorrow that it made her weep.

Humanity had squandered its gift, abused the earth and each other. The Angel had made her choice and it weighed heavily in her heart. Using the last of her strength, she unfolded magnificent wings that eclipsed the sun. She descended to the street below and once her feet touched the ground, her feathers turned to rust and fell in their thousands.

She curled up on the harsh concrete, her eyes slowly closing for the last time. As she took her last breath, she dreamed of a place she once knew; a place that floated in ethereal skies of perpetual sunrise. As the last Angel died, the world wept without understanding why.

Holding onto a feather of purest white, a child watched as the Angel became nothing more than dust in the wind.

In this child’s heart a light now shone. In this child’s mind the light formed a thought. In this child, over the years to come, the thought would grow into an idea. In this child, this idea would be nurtured, and eventually shared. In this child was the Angel’s parting gift.

In this child…was hope.

photo credit: quinet <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/91994044@N00/33804475522">One feather</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(license)</a>