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Talking to Angels (Prose)
by Graeme Fielden Mother hated it when I told her I talked to angels. Theyd talk to me when I lay my head upon the pillow, theyd ask for offerings. Sometimes in my dreams Id see them and theyd talk to me, asking for offerings. Asking for offerings to God. Then
The next day we walked to the park where mother pushed me on the swing. She pushed me higher and higher. So high it seemed that I could see the whole world before me as I felt the wind rushing through my hair. I closed my eyes imagining I could fly. Hanging my arms out to the side, like wings. For a moment I flew - feeling the exhilaration of the wind in my face. I soared in defiance of gravity until the angels no loner carried me and I fell to the ground. Mother shook her head and cussed me as I started to cry.
My head seemed stuck into the soil - Brown and plain. Cold and damp. I saw them then. I saw the worms. Their heads popped up like beacons as I lay upon the ground. I watched them wiggle and squirm. The angels told me to gather them. God wanted to live with the worms. He called them. I caught them with my fingers to harvest them for God. They felt slimy and cold until I cut them into little pieces so they didnt wiggle any more. The angels told me they were living with God. God was happy.
The angels talked to me the next night when my head hurt. I was feeding Shirley and the puppies, scooping dog food into their busy bowls. They crowded me like hoarding insects eagerly attacking the bowel. The angels told me God loved the puppies too
Oh, how I loved Shirley and the puppies! Theyd snuggle next to me when I was cold and play with me when Mother left me alone. When the angels called for the puppies it made me cry. Shirley looked at me with wide brown eyes that turned bloodshot. She whimpered in the corner while I cut them into little pieces. Still God wanted to live with the puppies. He called them. I gathered them. I harvested them for God. The puppies were living with God. God was happy.
Oh! Mother was angry when she learned about the puppies! I tried to tell her about the angels, but she wouldnt listen and hit me with a belt. I suffered it for you, my God! I suffered with a smile even when she locked me in the garage.
Mothers still not talking to me now. If I could get out of this garage then I'm sure shed listen, Id tell her about Gods next wish. Im sure shed be so happy. She'd be so proud!You see, the angels told me God wants to live with Mother and now I just cant wait to see her! 03/19/2004 Author's Note: The 3rd in the Scorpian's Tale series. So named for being short, sharp, with a sting in the tale...(needs lots
Posted on 03/19/2004
Copyright © 2024 Graeme Fielden
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 03/20/04 at 01:38 AM A Stephen King short story! Weird, twisted mind; consistency brings realism to this very strange tale of the bizarre. |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 03/21/04 at 03:14 AM This is a beautiful fantasy, subtle and meaningful. The common behavior pattern is so nicely fantasized here.The end is sarcastic, ironically. |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 03/24/04 at 01:03 AM whoa, that is so twisted... ohmygoodness... i think i must read the rest of the series... ::shaking head::... what starts as beauty and innocence, ends as terrifying and fanatical... damn good piece... blessings... |
| Posted by JD Clay on 03/27/04 at 03:27 PM Sheesh! Talk about a dilemma. A fascinating read, Graeme, and a graphic demonstration in levels of compassion. Feeling less for the worms, more for the puppies , and extreme for the Mother. But you should never argue with your Mother, now eat your meat and don't forget to clean the garage while you're in there.
Pe4ce... |
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