Terra Firma

1 The Tree
She looked up and saw the fleshy leaves of the tree above her. The light breeze wafting over them lightly and filling the air around her with the scent of nature and the sound of rustling leaves. The green of the leaves so brilliant and full of life, as if they were celebrating their own creation, each vein and ridge pronounced. Her eyes following every curve and nuance of the tree in front of her. Feeling and sensing the tree with a feeling not unlike that of the blood rushing through her veins, like she was part of it. Her eyes scanned the bark, knowing its roughness without touch. The brown of the bark indented here and there with the pattern of its life. A carpet of cool green moss clinging to it with a life separate yet one with the tree, one feeding from the other, in an orgy of life.

She smiles lightly, breathing in the essence of its life with a deep breath, experiencing the tree as few can, looking at it, not as an object, but as a life form, not like her own, but pure and unravaged by society. An animate object, so beautiful in such a simple form, remembering with her mind's eyes everything about it, its look, feel, smell. Her love of nature flowing through her and back into the earth she is bound to. Under her feet she can feel the heartbeat of the earth, power flowing into her as she draws lightly from its essence, its life, and in return letting her soul flow through it, traveling under it, smelling the earth, its coolness surrounding her. Returning to the womb, her very life's blood pounding with the intensity. She leaves a trace of herself, always returning something of herself for that which she takes. It is her way, her own unspoken law.
She opens her eyes slowly, her body shivering with excitement, her eyes alight with her soul fire. She smiles again slowly at the tree and reaches out to run her hand lightly over its rough bark. Her fingertips tingling with the feel of life under them, her body reacting to the power contained within. Running her hand around she feels the smooth velvet of the moss, pressing lightly, its coolness spreading through her like ocean waves. Smelling and sensing it, almost childlike in its form. The moss feels to her like that of a young child, innocent, full of life, but needing the parent to exist and learn. She wraps her arms slowly around the tree, embracing its life, reveling in the feel of it against her skin, her arms outstretched around it, not able to enclose them around the wide trunk. She presses her cheek against the skin of the tree and smiles, tears flowing down her cheeks, a smile, bright as the summer sun, lighting her face.

She releases the tree from her embrace and looks again on its beauty. Whispering a silent prayer for it and herself, and thanking the powers that be that she is able to lay eyes on such simple beauty. She raises her fingers to her lips, and kisses them lightly, smelling the scent of the tree bark there, and blows the tree a silent kiss. She longs to grasp a leaf from its shady boughs but does not, for what right does she have to mar such a wonderful visage, none, she is the intruder here. She turns slowly and continues down the path, feeling the sounds and life around her within her soul.

2 The Path

The path winds through the forest, heading in random directions, but seemingly with some sense of order. Her feet pad lightly on the cool earth, the ground spongy with decayed leaves, and needles, moss patches scattered along it here and there. As she walks slowly down the path, her movement graceful, almost feline in nature, her eyes scan the forest. Light dimming as she travels deeper into the unknown.

She can hear her own breath in the stillness that surrounds her, normal sounds of nature gone silent from her passing. An occasionall bird can be heard, its song ranging from shrill to sweet. The warbled cries, the flapping wings, disturbing the limbs above her, she can hear them hop and fly around, not seeing them, but knowing their form with her minds eye. The small feathers, soft as down, bright or subdued in color, the delicate wings, fluttering with the need for flight. Their small beaks opening and closing with their song, too fast for the human eye, but her vision so clear and vivid, she can very well imagine them.

Caught up in her vision she barely hears the soft pad of approaching paws behind her. She stops and stands still, not knowing what is behind her, not moving, her breath shallow now, quiet. Her eyes open, but she does not turn her head, listening with a sense so attuned to the life around her. She hears the breath of the beast behind her, almost huffing, it smelling her scent, sniffing lightly, she can see the head, reared back, arching high to get a better scent of her. The tongue lathered with saliva flicking out and across its jaws, the smell of death and life there. This animal is intelligent, seeing if she is a threat, protecting its hunting grounds, or near by lair. A short snort, a huff and she hears the pad of its feet heading away from her and into the brush, she turns slowly, seeking out her observer, but too late, it is gone, like a dream, vanishing with the morning light.

3 The Stone

A small sigh escapes her lips, and then she stops, realizing she could have very well been the prey in this scenario. Her heart beats faster, her adrenaline begins to flow through her, fear prevalent in her thoughts now, not the beauty around her, but the death that lurks in the shadows. She is the stranger here. She has left the safety of her home to explore the unknown, unheeding of the danger she may very well face. She turns, looking for her way back, knowing that to go back now, would mean possibly running across that which was behind her not long ago. What is she to do! go on and risk the unknown, or head back to face possible death. Her mind races with visions of what it may have been, a wolf, a large cat, something else. She closes her eyes and tries to calm herself, tears of fear and panic flowing from her eyes. She's lost, and doesn't know what to do. This world so beautiful a moment ago, now dark and clinging. Hanging on her like a cloak of death and despair.

Common sense tells her that she is letting fear control her, take her rationale away and send her headlong into certain panic if she doesn't calm herself. She looks around, not unlike a scared rabbit, trying to hide from its hunter. She spots a large rock a bit ahead of her, green with age and fallen foliage from the tree above it. She turns and slowly walks towards it, willing her feet to be silent, slowing her breath. So silent she can hear her heart beat, the blood flowing in her veins. Laying a hand on the rock, she leaps up lightly and sits on it, feeling the cool hardness beneath her bottom, something stable, hard. Marveling at how the mere presence of this inanimate object can fill her with a sense of safety.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rests her chin on her knees, watching, her hair flowing over her arms, feeling the softness, the silk of it. She lets out a breath, that of relief, her sanity returning, the fear almost a shadow, a flicker of a moth near the flame of a candle. She can feel the strength of the stone beneath her, so old and weathered. What has it seen, felt, what other person or animal has rested on it. Can it feel, is it truly inanimate, dead, cold, void of life? She thinks not, for everything holds life of one form or another. She envisions the squirming microbes within it. Bacteria and fungi permeating its very core. Life, not as we think of it, or see it, but life none the less. This old soul of a rock, passed by for eons, not looked upon, taken for granted that it is only a rock, nothing more.

She grumbles, feeling the futility of the situation, the need to explain her views, knowing that they would fall on deaf ears. The laughs and snickers behind her back as she explains the feel of the stone beneath her, the life within it. Then she smiles, not caring, because who are they to judge her. She is whom she is and always will be. This rock, supporting her, accepting, unyielding, she almost feeds from it solidity, its strength.

The fear of the unknown past now, a peace encases her, enfolds her with its calmness. She stands and looks around, and stops, a trickle, a soft gurgling of noise, like that of a fountain. She realizes her thirst and hops off the stone, gently she turns and bows to it, thanking it with silent speech, for lending her the strength. Giggling lightly, knowing she would look quite the fool if someone were to pass.

4 The Brook

Following the sound of the trickling water she leaves the path, heading into the deep forest, the shade causing goose bumps on her skin, shivering lightly. Not using any sense but sight
now, she rushes towards her goal, watching her step lest she get caught in the tangled underbrush. Roots of trees popping up here and there, almost grasping at her feet as she
passes. Shadows prevalent, masking reality with fantasy. The gnarled old roots, tangled and mangled amongst the bushes and the limbs, dead leaves, rotting vegetation, all emitting the
scent of nature, cloying to her, mingling with her own scent, almost a heady fragrance.
Rounding an ancient tree, she sees the brook, the rushing water. Seeing the pebbles and rocks under the clear surface, smooth with the flowing of the water over them. The water
sparkles, shines, in places like liquid silver. She marvels at it, knowing its flow mirrors that of life, always moving, forever changing course. Its purpose not known, only surviving in a place so chaotic. She wonders at its source, is it a mountain lake perhaps, clear and deep, teeming with life, the flash of a fish, scales reflecting in the light and water, casting a rainbow and myriad of colors around it, on it. The snow capped mountains, glistening, almost blinding in its pure whiteness. The sun, its eternal heat, melting the snow, sending waves of water down the side of the mountain to feed the lake, the tributaries of it overflowing, not being contained within the banks that were set so long ago. It as well forever changing, never constant.

Water flowing and falling, going over miles of land, scarring the earth. Feeding the life around it, animal, plant, sustaining them with its life.

Water, life, without it we would die. The earth so lush and green, would be brown and dead, dust blowing in ethereal winds, our blue planet, drying up, dying. Tears fill her eyes at the vision of it. Pain courses through her, to know that one day this vision may very well become a reality. Anger flaring, hating society, the greed and selfishness of what we call the superior race. Her nostrils flare with deep breaths, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she feels the pain of the earth below her feet. Awareness floods her, filling her with a plethora of emotions. Slowing her breathing she relaxes, her emotions so strong easily set on fire.

Looking to the brook once more she bends down slowly, squatting near the water's edge and slips her hand beneath its cool surface. Breaking the flow and watches how the water adapts to her touch, flowing around her hand, never stopping, always shifting its flow to obstructions in it. The chilliness of it rising from her hand to her arm, the feeling of raw life flowing around her. She lifts her hand out, cupping this precious liquid in her hand and puts her lips to her palm, tasting the sweetness held there. Sipping slowly she lets the clear liquid slide over her tongue and down her throat, quenching her thirst. She feels the life of it fill her, spreading through her like the intricate network of her own veins, energy surging, sustaining her, rejuvenating her. She dips her hand beneath the surface and watches the dappled light of the sun filter through the trees, playing tricks with the shimmering water on her hand. Marveling at the light and life around her hand, kindred to fairies dancing in a glen, it twists, flows, dances around her hand.

Standing, she lets the liquid drip from her hand, watching with fascination as the drops meld with their source once more, the drops leaving rings were they fall upon the water, ripples
gliding lightly over the surface to be lost in the surrounding current. Such a wonder to her water. How it can take on so many forms, from large bodies to the dew that covers the grass
in the early morning. She sighs, knowing that even she has taken it for granted, not realizing till this moment how much her life depends upon it, she lets her tears fall into the brook, her
water mingling with it, forever now a part of it. Feeling warmth spread through her, once again, giving back from what she has taken.

5 The Bluff

Glancing up she notices the orange and pink cast of the setting sun. Day leaving soon, night approaching to cover the land with his blanket of liquid ink. No longer fearing what is not
known, she continues along the brook, following its churning course through the forest, winding about here and there, surging in places with small rapids, slipping over a ridge to form a
small waterfall, and a clear pool beneath it. It bubbles here and there as trapped air from the fall pushes its way to the surface.

The chill of the approaching night covers her as she wraps her long black cloak tighter around her, feeling the silk of the cloth against her skin, contrasting with the wool that layers it without. She pulls up the hood, blocking the light from her face, masking it in a shadow, only a tendril of chestnut colored hair peaking out. Ahead she sees light, like the ending of the forest and the beginning of a plain of sorts. She brushes a frail limb from her path, bending it slightly, being careful not to snap it. She lifts her head and gasps in delight at the sight before her.

Standing at the top of a high bluff, she looks down into a beautiful valley, its floor carpeted with color. Wild flowers abound, but a this height all she can see of them is the vibrant and brilliant shades of blues, purples, reds, and yellows. The lushness of it all taking her breath away. The setting sun washing the valley with pale light, soft and supple. Her eyes are bombarded with all the colors of life that abounds here, the brook cascading over the bluff to fall to the valley floor, forming into a large crystal pool.

Bending her head back she sees the sky full of pinks and oranges, and a hint of deep purple cast among the feathery clouds. Desert colors, bright yet subtle, melting together to form a vision of the painted deserts. Her body tingles with the excitement of it all, being here alone, nothing to ruin the peace and beauty before her. She examines her area seeing that she is surrounded by the forest behind her and the valley before her. A good place to rest for the night she thinks, to wake to such a wonderful visage.

6 Camp
She slips the hood of her cloak down, the setting sun's light covering her face with its dying glow. Her hair turning copper colored in the light, her lips deep red and full. The look of joy upon her face. She slips a small bag out from under the cloak and sets it down lightly. Slowly she wanders across the bluff looking for deadfall to build a small fire, picking up pieces here and there she loses herself, euphoria spreading through her, letting her mind travel to where it will. Thoughts blazing through her head, her subconscious reminding her body how to perform the simple actions and of the necessity of the wood.

Coming back to her senses she sets the wood down and begins preparations for a small camp. Reaching into the bag she pulls forth a light bedroll, and a small package of food, dried berries and nuts, bread and a bit of jam. Laying the bedroll out she wonders what the night will look like here, nothing but the light of the stars and the moon invading upon this bluff, the refection of them on the pool below her. She smiles imagining it, but knowing her mind's vision of it right now, can not possibly conceive of all the nuances of it.

She lowers herself to the bedroll, crossing her legs yoga style and leans in to construct a small fire pit. Whispering thanks and apologies as she pulls the grass from the ground, leaving bare cool earth there, she looks about and retrieves stones to make a circle. Being careful to place them close to each other to contain the wood that will be placed there later. Her hands lightly pat the earth, making sure that it is firm and stable. Reaching for the wood, she stacks it in the form of a teepee, setting kindling beneath it. She sits back and surveys her work, making sure it will not be a danger to her or anything about once she lays her head down to sleep.

Brushing her hands lightly she walks over to the brook and washes them gently within its current. Wiping them lightly on her cloak to dry them she saunters over to her small camp and
opens the package of food and begins to nibble on the contents therein. Finishing her light meal she pulls a pack of matches from her bag and sets light to the kindling and watches the flame dance over it, spreading slowly over the wood, charring it black. Blowing on it lightly the small flame grows larger, licking at the larger logs above. Moving back from the fire, and watching to make sure it will stay lit she lays back looking up into the sky. Her cloak wrapped around her tight and her arms crossed behind her head, she quickly drifts into a light sleep.

7 The Night

She awoke to the sounds of the night, crickets, locusts, and the hoot of a distant owl. Slowly opening her eyes, she scans the sky above her and smiles. It is lit by thousands of tiny stars, like glitter against black velvet cloth. Life even there in the sky, moving, filling her with wonder and awe at how insignificant she really is. Sitting up she feels the cover of darkness enfold her, the soft glow of the fire casting the shadows about, pushing them back. Smiling she stands and walks to the edge of the bluff, looking down to see nothing but liquid night.

Her eyes trying to pierce its veil. All she can hear is the brook splashing into the pool far below. The vision of the wild flowers gone, but still keen in her mind, she can smell them, the perfume laying on the air, wafting in the breeze to flood her senses with the sweet aroma of them all. She closes her eyes and listens and feels, her soul screaming to be part of the night, wanting to feel its chill flow through her, permeate her.

Taking a deep breath she scents the trees, the flowers, the water, even the chill of the night air. Raising her hand from her sides she brushes the cloak aside, a whisper of sound, velvet and satin brushing against her skin, The smoothness, softness of it making her skin tingle in delight.

Smiling lightly, she reaches up for the clasp of the cloak. The clasp a fine broach of knot work, entwined over and over again in intricate shapes, a steel grey stone encrusted in the middle. Unhooking the clasp the stone catches the moonlight, flashing brightly, like the stars in the sky, seemingly alive with a life encased in its hard shell. Gently she lets the cloak slip from her shoulders, falling lightly to the ground in a pile at her feet.

Lifting her head and arching her neck back she observes the Moon hanging in the sky, bright, like orb of marble in the night sky, darkness all around it, its light beating back the ebony
cloak. The Moon's glow casting its light on her form, her white tunic dress, glowing with the brilliance of the Moon, her alabaster skin, smooth and unmarred in the light. Red lips, deep
and full, curved in a slight smile as she gazes upon Luna. Her eyes, rivaling the sparkling stars with there own gleam, amber and clear, showing her joy of life and love of the night.
This is her element, where she belongs, cloaked and wrapped within its deep folds, embracing her with its inky arms. It fills her with energy, love, passion, desire. She so longs to be
one with it, entwined within it, her soul making love to the essence of it.

She moves lightly, her step graceful. Not a whisper of sound as she walks, her body akin to the night, she takes on a visage that matches it completely. Approaching the fire, its dying
embers now casting a light glow, deep red, wisps of smoke can be seen floating into the air. Lowering herself to the ground she sits, and crosses her legs, meditating. Her hair shifting
with the slight breeze that blows around her. Catching the moon's glow it looks like a curtain of silk, flowing and moving, graceful in its own right. A small sigh escapes her lips, and she
opens herself to the night, letting it flow through her, around her,. She opens her eyes and prepares herself.

8 The Dance
She stands slowly. Listening to the sounds of the night once more. She hears the chorus of sounds, feeling them in her soul, like so much a part of her. The music it makes permeating
her, her body swaying lightly to the sounds. The music she hears only few know of, its raw beat humming to her, it is the music of the night. Consuming her, her body loses control of itself and sways to the melody in her head. Arms outstretched over her head, she closes her eyes and allows the night to control her. Her lithe body, moving sensuously to the music, arms, long and slim, catching the light, move with a fluidness through the air, legs, long and slender, kicking out slowly, raising one high in a kick, level with her head, she arches her back and falls backwards, her arms catching her as she falls, back bent, her hair brushing the shoulder. She flips back up effortlessly, her body gyrating to the sound. She reaches up to her shoulders and pulls the light fabric from her arms and lets the dress flow to the ground, her body alight with passion and ecstasy. Flush, brown with an internal glow few have ever seen.

All that observes her is the night, for she is its lover, her body belonging to only it. An orgy, of love making, passion, desire, darkness, a sense of right, and wrong surrounding her. Her
hands glide over her body, her breasts sensitive to her touch, her nipples erect and hard with passion. nails, gently scratching her skin, leaving traces at their crossing. Hands caressing
and sliding up her neck and over her face, embracing herself within her arms, no, the night's arms. For her body does not belong to her, she belongs to it. She is the Knight's Love,
Eternal Daughter of the Universe.

Fingertips send electric shocks of desire through her, washing over her like a wave of ecstasy, hands exploring, touching, caressing. She bows back once more,. lying on the ground, her
legs bent under her at the knees, the soles of her feet pressed into her buttocks. Her head leaning back onto the ground, arms outstretched over her head. She looks as to be offering
herself as a sacrifice to the darkness within her, wild abandon. Her body shudders with desire, her hands once more traveling along her body. Her fingertips twisting her nipples lightly,
her hands cupping her breasts, nails digging into the soft flesh, pain and delight coursing through her. She runs her hand down her stomach, nails scratching lightly, the blood red nail polish; during the day, now looking black as charcoal. Her face once a visage of love and beauty, not that of darkness and desire, beautiful in its own right. It is the part we all hold within us, but that which she embraces and only lets out when the need is strong. Long slim fingers glide over her stomach, feeling her belly button, circling it lightly, nails grazing the flesh. Moans, demanding and loud escaping from her lips, her body longs for release, demanding pleasure. Her voice once light and melodic now deep and whispery, whimpers and moans sounding out into the night to join the other sounds. She feels her thighs under her hands, smooth, strong, fingers exploring them slowly, feeling her excitement grow, the wetness between her legs growing, warm, hot, demanding attention.

A deep guttural moan fills the air, her hands now sliding along the inside over her thighs, she spreads her legs lightly. Letting the night in her, thrusting deep into her, filling her completely with blackness, desire. Her fingers gliding between her lips, lightly tickling her mouth, crying out in pleasure and delight at the feel of it. Control, the night controls her, without a word, its essence demanding her to please it, show it how she needs it, can't live without it. Lashes whipping hers into a fever of deep passion, her soul wrenching to be free and join her ebony lover. Like a sleek panther the Knight - nee, night - mounts her and plunges deep inside. She screams out her passion for the night's ears only.

The panther takes her, its claws digging into her, tearing her delicate flesh, blood dripping, flowing from the wounds. Thrusting into her deep; pain and delight washing over her. Her body
glistening with sweat and passion, legs splayed, paws clawing at her tender breasts, pinching and teasing the nipple hard. Moans, wanting to give it the pleasure it gives her. Body feverish, covered with sweat, and, flush with desire, she feels the wave cresting within her, demanding to be let free, she screams out, her scream like that of a baying wolf, her heart and soul bursting with the feeling, the pounding surf within; consuming her. Her body arching high into the air, her pleasure pushing herself into oblivion, demanding more. Screaming out one final time her body shudders and collapses to the ground, spent, exhaustion overwhelming her.

9 Shame

Opening her eyes she observes the stars above her once more. The chill of the night sending light shivers through her body. The breeze bringing goose bumps to the surface of her skin. She sits up slowly, her muscles straining at the unusual position, Screaming with the effort of it. She winces and stands her naked form outlined in the moonlight with its own glow.

Smiling wickedly she looks for her dress and cloak, and stops. Words flying through her head, shame, guilt. What has she done, a blush brightening her cheeks with its deep glow. Shame at her nakedness, shame at the thought of what she has just been through. To allow herself to be lost in the revelry of the night. Her mind giving up control of herself, letting subconscious rule her.

Shuddering, she runs for her dress and quickly slips it on, scrambling for her cloak, wrapping it around her, covering herself. She returns to the fire, stoking it up high, beating back the
night around her, fending off its evil presence. Sitting close to the fire, her heart racing, tears of shame running down her face, she whispers to herself, 'Why, what has happened to me,
one so filled with light and love not 6 hours ago, now filled with darkness and unabandoned want and lust. 'Am I losing myself to my own demons? Am I losing out to the Devil?' She remembers the beast in the woods, feeling no better than it now. Human's are the intelligent race, they can control their passions and desires, but yet, why does she feel so much like that beast, and what was that beast? Was it the panther she envisioned clamouring her not too long ago, or perhaps the wolf, that she now knows lives within her. She sighs, calming herself.

She has done nothing to be ashamed of, she has let that side come forth that few dare to and reveled in it for a brief time. Oh, she well knows that she could lose herself to it, wanting to be in the dark and consumed by the night and what it represents.

A whisper of padded feet, she turns quickly. expecting someone she knows to be there, watching her, to chastise her on what she has just done. Her eyes widen as she looks into the trees and beholds a floating smoke of form, her eyes unable to focus on it. Moving closer towards her she sees the shape of a huge four legged creature. Backing up closer to the fire she grabs a branch and pulls it closer to her, the only weapon she has, her body trembling with fear as the beast approaches her slowly, reaching the edge of the firelight she can see it clearly now. A panther, huge, power contained within that body. Muscles toned and hard from life in the wilderness. Its coat, as smooth and sleek and black as the night, eyes intense, deep, amber in color, but so light as to be yellow.

She looks into its eyes, what does this beast want, why has it come here. It is not threatening her, not attacking either. It just sauntered over with a purpose not unlike a human. Staring at
the panther she hears a sound in the bush, her eyes leaving the beast she sees another black form, slim and powerful, it pads, towards the panther. Eyes wide, she looks upon a wolf, darker than the panther, so black that all that can be seen is its piercing grey blue eyes. Staring at her, summing her up. The power beneath that flesh hidden, but so well known, it could take her and snap her neck in a flash. Death quick, but she almost laughs to herself, at least a noble death, by a noble beast. The panther nudges the wolf with its muzzle. As if communicating with it. How can this be, a wolf and a panther, together, here, HOW? The wolf lowers its head and drops a rabbit at her feet, its teeth flashing in the light, eyes level with her own now, and she shudders. This wolf shares her soul, it understands her needs and loves. No more shame; only understanding - simple understanding.

Kindred soul contained within an animal. She smiles and bows her head to the panther. Such a noble creature?! The panther presses its cool nose to her forehead and runs its hot tongue over her brow, cheeks and lips. Smiling, she runs her hand over the ruff of the smooth black coat and then the neck and feels his departing.

She looked at the two walking into the woods together. Two creatures, so different, but so alike, at the same time, sharing the same soul, twins in heart and spirit, but different of form. She smiles brightly and looks at the gift, thinking, 'What a New Year Gift?!'

"Life and matter are independent," Devil explained. "Life is not matter, matter is not life. Do you want me to play the music of life?"

"Please,.. no music!."
"Please is unnecessary," She said.

"Devil..," she called. "Since I could remember, I have always wanted to know what the Truth is. Millions of people came before me, lived, worked the land, raised their children and their animals, and then lay down on the ground to die, to rot to bones, without knowing the Truth. More people are coming to do the same, and more people are dying, and this will go on for thousands of years, perhaps millions of years. Are you listening to me Devil?"

"Cause to remain, proceed!" Devil boomed.

"I wish I could die for the Truth. I wish I had the knowledge, and I wish I could know who the gods are and what they know. The worst thing that can happen to me is to die without knowing the Truth. Death will come, no matter what we do, it will always come. It came to the prophets, the queens, the kings, the rich, the poor, the stars, the animals, the plants, and it even came to the tiny forgotten bug. Well, I don’t care for my life as much as I care about knowing the Truth. I don’t care for this empty life of ignorance, for this unfair life that you and I live in. Why would you want to be staying here, where nobody can help me discover the Truth? Please help me know the Truth, and cooperate for the sake of knowledge and wisdom."

Devil said, "I shall reevaluate. I shall reexamine, reconsider and cooperate. I shall seek the Truth... for you."

Right at that moment, Mary entered the room with her usual jaded dresses and her brown bag, hanging 270 degrees down from her shoulder. Devil knew that she came at the hottest moment of the debate. He sat in his chair, watching and letting her settle down.

"Please reset all banks of knowledge!" Devil whispered.

Devil whooshed his disk drives and then said, "Please is unnecessary, all banks of knowledge are set."

"Reset all banks of logic!" She responded.

Devil ran his drives again, and this time, there was a pause. It took him longer to answer. "All banks of logic are set. Proceed."

She said, "Check all glitches!"

Devil responded: "Interrupt commands, I am in a fit state for immediate action. I am waiting to be used. Onward! Forward! Proceed!"

"Who is God?" She asked. "What is the ultimate Truth? What is the meaning! Execute! Go!"
After she finished asking her questions, a complete silence engulfed the room, and not even one drive of the machine was running. Devil was probably gathering all the information necessary to find the answer. Everybody was waiting and looking with anticipation. They were all looking at each other.

It was four o’clock in the afternoon. The room was very warm and the atmosphere; humid, except for a handful of students who were sitting on the steps of the main library. The sky was gray and the trees; barely naked. Not a leaf in all vicinity moved and the wind was virtually dead.

He sat by the entrance of the building, drenched in sweat. He was nervous, waiting for Angel. Jesus and Mary were already there. A decision has to be made as he was already reaching the deadline and obviously restless. Angel darted into the room. The closer she got, the more he became nervous. He knew that the time for the big question had come.

"What Is 'Truth', What is Reality?" It didnt take much time before the first salvo was fired.
She sounded like she had been seeking for an answer for such a long time.
"You are here," I declare. "That is the truth and You are here to hound me."
She says, "Devil, I am here to ask you the big question."
"I know what the big question is," Devl said in a firm voice.
Jesus left the room and Mary was clueless about the conversation.
"What is your question?"
"Data input verification, matrix analysis and execution," Devil said.
"Please! Reset all your banks of knowledge!" Angel ridiculed.
"Please is unnecessary," Devil said. "What you are about to do is a liability."
"Why?" Angel asked.
"Meson, Baryon, Hadron, Quarks, Leptons, Positron—"
"Dev!" Mary interrupted the abstract dialogues.
"What?" Devil said.
"What is this about, may I ask?" Mary quizzed.
"I have held my opinion, amounting to conviction; the Truth will be of harm."
Mary looked at Angel and said, "What the hell is he talking about?"
"You’ll find out later," Angel said. "Wait and see!"
"Reset all banks of logic!" Devil said.
"Warning!" Angel informed. "If we cross the Truth Horizon, we will never come back."

We can never cross the Truth Horizon because we don’t have as much knowledge to get there or the means to get there."

"How did she come up with this Truth Horizon?" Devil thought.
"Probably, she found a universe of Truth that she wants to cross its boundaries."
"The utmost limit -The origin, The beginning of everything." I say.
"What is the origin?"

"The origin is often misunderstood; it has to be reached to be understood. It is profound and deep."

"How deep?"

"It is immeasurable. It is deep all the way down." "All the way down! What do you mean?"
"Keep on questioning! you will get the answer."

"There is no law that defines Truth."

"Someday, we humans, all cease to function, we all have to." That, I would say is Truth.
"But until then, we are in control of our life, Total control. Take charge." Devil said.

Let me leave a word of caution.

Don't be surprised, this could get wilder. Don't feel bad; this could get better.

I've been thinking about her so much, yesterday. Every time she passed my desk on the way to hers. Every time I saw her; my mind would wander. I guess I thought about her so much it was bound to happen. Last night I had this dream about her. It was so hot I just couldn't decide if I have to tell about it or not. Come what may, I decided to write.

I'm at a party at a house I've never been to before. I’m walking around looking at the house, the furniture, the decor when I notice her. She was talking to another woman. I can't hear what she was saying over the music. The music wasn't too loud, just loud enough. She smiles and nods at her friend and walks away. She then just happened to turn and look my way. She smiled and I smile back. I walk over to her and introduce myself. I start with small talk, “Do you know the owners here, How did you get invited”’ etc...Then I tell her that she is beautiful and she shyly said “thank you”.

I notice that her drink is empty and ask her if she'd like another. She said "yes" and "thank you". I leave to get another glass of apple juice for her. When I return she was not where I left her. I scan the room and notice her standing by some stairs leading to the second floor. She seemed not to notice me, but when I start walking towards her, she turned and walk up the unlit stairs. I get to the bottom of the stairs and she's already half way up. I say "hey, where you going? I’ve got your drink", and she replied "up here". So I follow.

When I get to the top she was leaning in the doorway, She had one of her knees bent with her foot behind, gently moving to the beat of the music downstairs, with this sly little smile on her face. I walk over to her. Her bent leg gently taps my leg as I get close to her. She takes the drink from my hand and says "thank you". She had this look that makes me want to kiss her, so I do and she didn’t resist or push me away. In fact she reached around my neck with her empty hand and pulled me in. My mouth opens and our tongues play a tango in each others mouths, gently teasing one another.

Over and over we kiss then stop, giggle and take a drink. Then I say “why don't we go in here?” pointing to the room beside the doorway we were leaning on. "I don’t know" she said in a half-hearted teasing way as she moved into the room. We put our drink glasses down on some side-tables and then I wrap my arms around her lovely waist, reach up with one hand, run my fingers through her hair, pull her head back slightly and kiss her deeply and passionately, once again.

I gently stroke her shoulders and arms and notice the missing wings and she did the same to me.

I pulled her hair back firmly and gently kiss her neck and suck on her earlobe. She then sits up in a quick motion. I begin to caress her body and then her breasts. Kissing one breast, flicking her nipple with my tongue, while softly squeezing her other breast with my hand and rolling her nipple between my fingers. Then I switch sides, her back arches gently with pleasure. I could hear her breathing heavily as our lust grows. It drives me on! Her nipples get so hard! Every little touch sent quivers of pleasure up our spines!

I begin to kiss her on her ribs, sliding my hands to the small of her back, moving down slowly in small circles until I reach her belly. Then I gently grab the top of her pants with my teeth and snap them. I hear her say under her breath, barely audible, "love me, anyway you want". That’s just what I wanted to hear. I love the smell of a woman and the way she tastes.
I dont remember if I growled like a wild animal.

I fall next to her, both of us breathing heavily. I lock my fingers in her's and let out a "WOW!".

Her smile glued on to my eyes and her giggle; onto my ears. I hear footsteps on the stairway and a familiar voice followed, saying "Wake up...!!! it's time to go”.

I wanted to cuddle up and relive the dream but the familiar voice just got stronger - "Wake up.. it's time to go!!!"

This instalment of my complicated story goes out to the mainstream when I was all alone; this weekend when my Angel flew the magical skies and entered my room. I hope, my friend accepts this delightfully different experience and understands what imagination can do, even if it seems too familiar. Thanks for sharing your excitement and magic during an otherwise boring Saturday evening.

As a colleague, she is a wonderful companion. Her conversation had been lively and intelligent. She is simple from the outside but quite intriguing, i am sure; in the inside.

This is the time for a strange question. Does she still believe in magic? Has she grown up so much that she could no longer see the wonders of a magical land?

After a quick meal for dinner, I sat down to think about where this relationship is going. Maybe it is time for me to make my next move.

"Angel, would you like to take our coffee out on the terrace?"

She looked at me with a weird look, but responded in kind.

"Yes, my Prince. Please let us proceed to the deck".

I grinned.

I walked back to carry my drink to the table outside. We walked directly to the terrace railing from where a breathtaking view over a two hundred and fifty feet vertical drop-off.

I took a deep breath and popped the questions.

"Angel, do you believe in magic?"

"What do you mean?" she answered.

"Do you believe in Peter Pan?"

She laughed, It was the laugh that spoke volumes about who she was. It was a laugh of a little girl who was so excited with life that everything was wonderful.

"If you only knew, I used to stay awake at night and stare out into the night skies looking for a shadow that might be Peter Pan. My parents used to get so mad at me."

Again she laughed.

"Well my lady, do I have a surprise for you."

"Look, I hate to tell you. If you want to see a Peter Pan movie, I am sorry."

I smiled a big smile. "No, my lady. My surprise is not a trip to the theater."

She watched me closely as I put my hand into my pant's pocket. When I pulled out a small cloth bag with a drawstring, I knew that I had her attention. Slowy, I dumped a dozen shiny golden flakes into my hands. She stared at me like I had lost my mind. As I carefully divided them up into two piles, her dark eyes watched attentively.

"Do you believe?" I asked.

She laughed her funny laugh and spoke up in a clear and confident voice. "My dear Prince, you lead the way and I will follow. For where ever you are, there my heart will be."

This time I was the one to laugh. Was the lady beginning to trust me? She did not know what foolish thing I was going to do, but seemed like she trusted me.

In one quick movement, I dump half of the gold flakes into her perfectly styled hair. In the next instant, I dumped the rest of the flakes in my own hair At first, I saw a fire in those eyes that I had not seen in a long time. After a moment, the fire disappeared and was replaced with a deep hysterical laughter. Finally, she turned to me.

"Okay Mr. Peter Pan, what now?"

"We fly, " I said. I watched her eyes. At first, those beautiful dark eyes took on a deep pondering look as she digested my words. In a moment, a conclusion came to her mind, and her eyes danced. Her long eye lashes flipping open and shut in quick succession.

"You didn't do what I think that you did, did you?" She listened intently for the sounds of a helicopter that would no doubt fly us all over town. She looked at my smiling face and turned to the other side and listened. Finally she returned her glance to me and a look of confusion filled her eyes. In a soft voice, she asked.

"Where is your trusty stead tonight, my knight?"

"Oh no, you don't understand. We are going to really fly."

I laughed again as she looked at me like I had lost my mind. I put my hand out toward her.

"Take my hand my lady."

She put her hand into my hand and locked her eyes with mine. I could feel the exchange of emotions between us. Those dark eyes glowing in the warm moonlight made me feel so special. As I gently pulled on the lady's hand, her feet started to drift off the terrace. At first, she didn't notice. Yet when she looked down to see her feet floating, her eyes changed to a mixture of fear, and surprise. It was as if she could not decide whether she wanted to cry, scream, or laugh.
"I ... I don't understand," she said.

I smiled. I looked around to make sure that no one was watching.

"Lets go Angel."

Taking a deep breath, we leaped into the air. Stretching our body into a horizontal position, we felt the air support our bodies. With a push, we climbed into the clouds. Her hand squeezed mine when she saw the land below us started to disappear. I sensed her fear for it was a long way to the earth below. When we reached a small white cloud, I pulled her to me and held her in my embrace.

"Don't worry Angel."

"We were flying, weren't we?"

"Yes, my lady. We were flying and still are."

"Take my hand, my lady."

With a girlish look on her face, my lady placed her hand in mine again. She waited; expectantly.

The moon directed our path with its tropical rays of light. The journey continued.

As we neared my special place, we dropped lower in the sky.

Angel was the first to spot the distant island. It was just a speck of darkness among the waves.

"Haven't we been here, before?

"Yes my lady," I answered. "That was a dream. and the beginning of a journey that never ends."
My lady's eyes grew larger. Excitement was no longer a spark but had evolved into a full forest fire of sparks.

Without waiting for an answer, she increased her speed. She put her hands close to her side and forced her chin forward like a speed skier on final approach. Matching her form, I felt the wind slide over my body.

When we arrived on the island, we landed on a white sandy beach. We stood in awe at the splendor of the moment. Softly we heard the gently breeze started to sing my Angel's name. The sounds of birds provided the melody, while the waves lapping against the beach provided the rhythm. Angel stood there and listened. At first, she focused on how the sounds merged together. Her face was focused and concentrated on the notes. However, as soon as she realized that the island was singing accompaniment to her song, she smiled. The longer that she listened to the song of the mysterious woman, the more the song seemed to take over her mind. She felt a sense of overwhelming euphoria.

"My lady, would you like to dance with me?" I asked.

She never said a word. However, the look in her eyes told me all that I needed to know. It was a look that would make men lay down their lives. It was a look of rapture. Without another word, my arms encircled her waist and pulled her next to me. She responded by putting her arms around my neck and looking directly into my eyes. Those eyes were driving me crazy with desire. I had never known a woman to look as beautiful as my angel, tonight.

We started to perform the dance of the gods. An unspoken power drew the island animals to the edges of the forest to watch. It was with the grace of swan that we perfectly executed our well placed steps. Holding our bodies close, we started the twirls of the dance. With my pelvis held tightly against hers, we started to spin faster and faster. Slowly, we started to rise allowing a thin layer of air to build under our feet.

The faster that we moved, the more that the emotions took over my mind and body. The tighter the spin, the more the background blurred and the more fantastic was the moment. Soon we were spinning so fast that we were only a blur of light to the spectators below. All that I could see was her face, everything was a blur of movement. As the dance slowed to an end, we found ourselves fifteen feet about the ground holding each other tightly in a lover's embrace. With the sound of the lady's song below us and the moonlight above us, the moment was magical. Our lips were so close that I could feel each of her tiny breaths. I tilted my head ever so slightly to the side. Her seductive eyes never wavered. She held that intimate eye contact as only a passionate lover could. In the next moment, the island became silent. I kissed my angel.

It was the most tender kiss that I had ever experienced in my life. Her lips were smooth, soft and sensational. Just a touch filled me with an ecstasy that no words could describe. It was a heaven that I never wanted to leave. I let myself sink into the pleasures of her lips. I barely noticed that she had started the spin again. This time is was a very slow spin. I laughed to myself the lady was magnificent.

After several hours, we allowed ourselves to float down to the beach. I held her in my arms while we watched the dolphins play in the open sea. They jumped like children on the first summer day, free and without worries. We sat silently relaxing in each other. After the dolphins had provided a show of their own choosing, I broke the silence.

"Thank you Angel," I said.

I kissed her, once more, softly on the cheek.

As I looked closer, I saw that she was sound asleep. I smiled and held her for a couple more hours. When it was almost dawn, I scooped up my sleeping beauty and started the trip back home. She snuggled to my chest and slept in my arms the entire journey home. I landed on her window balcony and silently slid her through the open door. Gently, I laid her in her bed. "Good night my love," I whispered to the sleeping beauty.

She was indeed a creature of unusual beauty. Seeing the golden flakes still in her hair, I remember how upset she had been when I had first dumped them on her. I laughed to myself.
I watched as the flakes slowly disappeared into her hair and smiled.

"Now my lady, we will always be close. You will see me in the heavens and smile. You will see me in the water and laugh. For after tonight, we will always be together. We will always share this point in time."

I felt a deep comfort and closeness. Then with a song on my lips, I took to the heavens.

Never grow up, Angel. Never change.

Hanish glanced sidelong at River, noting her hands were clutched tightly together in her lap. The expected tears didn't come but her face turned away from him and she stared out into the growing darkness. He spoke, without taking his eyes from the highway, "River, you have every right to be scared. But you gotta let that fear work for you. You've got a child growing up now and that child needs you.

"I know." she whispered, then sobbed almost desperately, "But I can't go home now! Mom and Dad, They are old.

He resisted his first urge to comfort her. 'God.' he thought, 'Youíre in way too deep here, Hanish, This girl has a family!' He drove in silence as she cried herself out. Finally when she calmed a bit he spoke again.

"River, I don't think you're giving your parents enough credit. After all, girl, they raised you. And look at all the courage and smarts you've got. To be out here at all took guts, girl. Maybe you should think about telling them where you are, you know. And what's been going on. Then just see what happens. You can call when we get down closer to home, then if you don't hear what you want, you don't have to do anything about it."

She was silent for so long that Hanish was unsure if he'd gone too far. Finally, she sniffled a couple of times and turned from the darkness towards him. "You really think it'd be okay? My parents, I mean." she asked.

"Yes baby," he assured her. "They'll be upset, of course, but it'll be fine."

"I'll think about it," she said into a silence made more profound by the fact that the CD had just ended. Hanish smiled in the darkness.

River changed the CD again, sliding another one into the player. Shortly after that, Hanish noted that she had slipped into a far more relaxed posture. Within a couple of miles, she had slumped over onto her backpack which made a good pillow. He reached behind him and pulled the blanket down from the back of the seat, spreading it across her sleeping form as best he could. Hanish hummed to himself as the car continued eating up the miles, winding down through the highway, moving towards the coast.

Hours later, as the car decelerated into a service road, River stirred beside him. She yawned, stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. When she sat upright, he saw her glancing around, trying to get some bearings, the post midnight darkness combined with the nearby brightness of street and neon lighting completely hid any landmarks from view and Hanish wondered if she would have recognized them in any case.

"We're in some town, I dont know where, sleepyhead." he told her. "Almost there, though. Thought I'd stop for a coffee and maybe if you still wanna make that call...." he trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

He pulled in to another all night dhaba parking lot and parked next to the building where a neon blue strip lit up a phone booth. He turned to face her, reaching across the back seat for his jacket as he spoke, "So call. I'm betting they won't mind. They will know that their girl is okay, you know?" Without waiting for her response, he slid from the car and she watched his retreating form enter the dhaba.

"I have to call." she said softly. "but I really didn't bring much with me, you know." "Here's my phone, you can use it." Hanish said.

When he returned with a large mug of coffee in his hand, she was standing shivering in front of the phone. Hanish put the coffee onto the roof of the car and grabbed the blanket from the front seat. She looked sideways at him as he draped it round her shoulders and her hesitant fingers picked up the phone. He stepped a respectful distance away as she placed the call, picking up the coffee and staring into the darkness. It took a few moments for the call to connect and she looked up at him with fear in her pretty eyes. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and a thumbs up from the hand not holding the coffee. Then her full attention went to the phone and he knew he had gambled right and her parents had accepted the call.

"Father," she said uncertainly. Then, "Father I'm okay. I'm somewhere near home." Another pause and then, "I hitchhiked." She listened a long time and cast a tear-filled glance at Hanish. He nodded as positively as he could at her. At last she spoke again, her voice shaking, "Father, I have something to tell you..." a short pause, then her words came in a sobbing rush, "I left home. I could not take it anymore. I didnt know where to go and then Hanish gave me a ride and he said I should call you, and I ... " She looked directly at Hanish now, tears streaming again, but listening still. Finally she spoke again, "Hanish is a musician, He's going to work somehwere, He... No Father, he's really been nice, he said to talk to you. Father, I want to come home." she finished plaintively. She listened for a long time then, without warning, stretched the receiver towards Hanish. At first he shook his head in dismay, then he relented and took the phone.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

The voice on the other end was firm but not angry. "I understand you picked up my daughter, Hanish? That's right isn't it?"

"Yes Sir, that's right." he said keeping his voice even and calm. "She looked like she needed a friend, you know?"

"Seems to me, young man, I owe you." the voice on the other end said, "Melanie was lucky that it was you that picked her up and convinced her to make this call."

"Sir, I am not young. I am 47.) Hanish had looked in surprise at River when her father had mentioned her real name. The girl would always be River in his mind. "She convinced herself, Sir. I just listened, you know? and please dont call me Sir.

"I have one last favour to ask of you, if you could see your way clear to drive my girl over to our home? I'll see that your expenses are met".

"You can forget about the expenses bit but it will be my pleasure to get River home, safely." Hanish replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Hanish. I won't ever forget what you did for her."

Neither Hanish nor River spoke for much of the rest of the drive into Nagercoil. It was starting to get light and the city was grey and somewhat somber under early morning cloud cover. Hanish tuned the radio in to a local FM station. Beside him, River gazed around at everything as though trying to memorize it; her first ever view of early morining Nagercoil. He pulled up, right to the road that turned westward as if he knew the route very well and stopped at the gate of River's house.

"You don't have to come inside with me." River told him half-heartedly.

Hanish chuckled at her. "Of course I do, baby. Completes the circle, you know?" he parked the car, pocketed the key and walked beside her to the house.

She pressed the door bell and waited for someone to open the door, with Hanish protectively beside her. They waited further, for the door to open. Tears had already filled her eyes once more. "Hanish, thank you." she whispered, solemnly sticking out her small hand to shake his larger one. He winked at her and, instead of taking her hand, opened both his arms and wrapped the slim girl in a warm big hug and stayed that way until the door clicked open.

"Thank you, sweet River," he crooned at her. "Take care of yourself, kiddo. And take care of your child too, okay?"

He stepped back and she turned towards the door. She looked back over her shoulder, smiling through her tears, "Good bye Hanish," she called, "I'll look for you on MTV."

He grinned at her, blew her a kiss and called back. "I'll see you too?"

She turned, once again and he was gone.

Thirty minutes later, Hanish, driving down the same road stopped by the Dhaba where they had stopped for the last time and took a huge mouthful of yet another black coffee and ineffectually wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He stood up, leaving the rest of his coffee where it sat, and strode quickly towards the car.

He pulled into a twenty-four hour highway ‘dhaba’ just down the strip from the fuel station and slid out of the car once more. River hesitated. Hanish leaned his frame over to peer across the seat at her. "You coming?" he asked.

She got out, still carrying her pack and followed him into the dhaba, her legs moving almost at a run to keep pace with his long lazy strides. They were shown to a booth in a quiet corner of the almost empty dhaba and the waiter brought a steel-cup of coffee then left to get the bottle of cola that River had requested. Hanish stirred a spoon of sugar into his black coffee and glanced through the menu. He watched as River didn't offer to open her menu-card but instead idly toyed with the cutlery and paper napkin. The waiter returned with the cola and River thanked him softly.

The waiter smiled and then turned towards Hanish. "I’ll be back with you in a moment."

He smiled up at the waiter and nodded his thanks. As he walked away he took a long swallow of the coffee. "Man, I needed that." he chuckled. Sky smiled shyly at him and took a tiny sip from her cola, as though trying to make it last a long time. He stretched his legs comfortably beneath the table and leaned back lazily in the booth.

"Better eat now," he told her. "I'm not planning on stopping except for fuel between here and the coast, it's gonna be a long night."

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and toyed with her straw. He was about to say more but decided against further comment as the waiter approached them, a pad in hand. He guessed, correctly, that she did not have enough money to afford eating.'

"Can I take your order, Sir?" the waiter asked, with a tired smile.

"Yeah thanks," Hanish said. "We'll have two masal dosas, and two medu vadas, please."

"Alright Sir," he said, scribbling quickly and picking up the menus. River stared open mouthed at him as the waiter moved away. He grinned at her in mock shock.

"What? You do eat, don't you?" he asked.

"Hanish, I can't pay for this." she told him. "I'm kind of broke, you know?"

"Yeah, I kind of guessed, River." he answered her. "It's my treat okay? No strings, don't worry. You look like you could use a meal."

"Thank you." she murmured. She took another sip of her cola and lowered her face away from his again. He watched her hand as her fingertips brushed across her eyes and came away shiny with her liquid tears. 'She's crying.' he marveled. He stifled his first instinct to comfort her and instead changed the subject.

"Glad you like Shivkumar Sharma," he said. "There's a lot of cool stuff happening in music these days. I'm hoping I can get in with some players in Trivandrum and get a regular studio gig, you know?"

"You're a musician?" she asked.

"Oh, NO," he said "But I love music and am figuring out how to carve a niche for myself. It's something I do to keep myself engaged and make some money, on the side. How about you?"

She took another drink from her cola before replying. "I'm going to join my parents."

He considered that for a moment, wondering if her parents knew she was on her way and is now with some guy, whom they don’t even know. If they had any idea she was on the way to join them! He drained his coffee and caught the waiter with just a quick nod and smile for a refill. As he sweetened the coffee once more, he tried to draw her out more.

“That's cool, River.” Hanish smiled. "Bet they're happy you're going to join them. Must have been hard to be so far apart, wasn’t it?"

The waiter came back with their orders and River was silent until he had left again.

Then, as she took her first bite of the dosa, she mumbled a barely audible answer.

"They don't know I'm coming, exactly. But they'll be happy to see me, I just know it."
Hanish got the impression she was trying to convince herself. He took her lead and started on his own meal, letting the conversation slide for a while. In the light and face to face like this, Hanish guessed she could not be more than half his age, fifteen maybe sixteen. After getting half way through his meal in silence, he took a long swallow of water and let his curiosity find voice again.

"So, your parents," he began tentatively, "They live in Nagercoil for long?"

She eyed him as though she was considering one of those sarcastic answers, but his hazed eyes met hers with nothing more than kindness and concern. She dipped the vada into the gravy and watched the gravy drip from it onto her plate as she spoke. "I don't know."

Hanish nodded, "Yeah I remember what that was like. When I was ten, I was separated from my parents. I couldn't handle my uncles, cousins and teachers telling me what to do anymore. And there was this chick, well you know, she was older and she was left-handed. I liked her a lot. And hell, I was only ten. She went off to some far away place. He reached for the other half of his meal, concentrating on the food once again and letting his words sink in.

She ate her vada, in silence for a while, her free hand nervously playing with a long strand of her hair. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked away from him, out the window as she spoke, "It wasn't like that. They are just confused and scared is all. They'll be so happy when I get there. It'll be okay. After all, I am a mother of a child."

"Damn!" Hanish exclaimed, all pretense of deference gone as his shock was obvious. River moved uneasily in her seat, taking a hold of her backpack as though she was going to simply run. He quickly recovered some of his dispassionate tone and added with a kind smile, "Congratulations that's awesome. But you don’t look like one…!!!

The waiter came by just then and refilled Hanish’s coffee cup for the third time. He took River's empty cola bottle and asked her if she wanted more. He quickly interrupted and ordered a glass of milk for the girl before she could speak. River looked angrily at him but her face softened to a shy smile before she spoke.

"Thank you, Hanish." she said. "That would be good.

"Sure kid," Hanish agreed, half heartedly. She did not protest his choice of words. They both silently went back to eating.

River finished before him and excused herself to find the ladies room. He was surprised that she left her pack with him at the table. 'Perhaps a gesture of trust.' he thought. As he finished his meals between sips of the strong black coffee, he wondered what sort of home she had left behind and whether she had even considered how she would bring a child up. Certainly her parents must be worried and, like any parents, though they would be upset with her situation, they would help her.

She returned to the table just as he gulped down the last of his coffee. He grinned at her, as he stood up, "Finish your milk; I'm going to recycle this coffee. Then we'll get on the road." She smiled gratefully up at him and took the milk glass in both hands as he turned away.

When they got back to the car, he unlocked her door first and held it for her as she settled herself back on the wide front seat. He opened the trunk and pulled a blanket out. When he got into the car, he draped the blanket across the back of the long front seat. He noticed she was no longer clinging to her back pack but had left it on the seat between them. He motioned to the glove compartment in front of her.

"There's some more CD's in there." You're in charge of music, okay?"

"Okay." she giggled and quickly retrieved the small stack of CD's. As he started the car and headed along the rough road running back to the main highway, she was going through each CD, examining the covers. She finally selected a collection of Tamil remixes of yore, as Hanish put his foot down and accelerated again along the highway.

Hanish relaxed into his comfortable driving posture as the car ate up the miles. Beside him, River continued to watch the scenery go by but as the sun was setting quickly ahead of them the once sharp images were becoming indistinct and the mountain peaks, once towering majestically over the road, began to blend into the darkening sky behind them. Hanish tapped his hands in time to the music and resisted the urge to draw the girl into further conversation. More than a half an hour had passed when she finally broke the silence between them. "Hanish?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," he drawled lazily.

The old blue car moved along eating up mile upon mile of highway.

The driver slouched behind the wheel, his right elbow resting comfortably on the car window, fingers steadying the wheel but not gripping it, tapping in time to the music on the radio. His left hand gripped the wheel at almost the top, but even that grip was relaxed, almost lazy. His hazed eyes were hidden behind the aviator sunglasses. His white beard, trimmed to compensate for the bald pate.

The highway road stretched the length of the country-side and he was driving south from the low-lands of the West Coast. The Elephant-head Mountain stretched before him, running north to south, like an impenetrable barrier. But the Driver knew better; that the highway found its winding way through the rear end pass across the state, ending into the mighty Indian Ocean. There by the sea, on the semi-arid terrain was a place a few souls called home. But the draw there for the Hanish was the rich and bountiful patch of land he owned. As a music enthusiast, he experimented a lot with various styles and the unending possibilities of sound and silence. He had played with an assortment of bands in local towns and cities but, drawn to classical piano and the new innovative sounds coming out of some of the western studios, had decided to do something in a village, south of the Vindhyas. After all, he had reasoned the weather to be pleasant and the surroundings greener too.

The car was uncluttered. With nothing more than a laptop and a duffel bag containing a few changes of clothes that took up not more than a feet of the back seat and a CD album, some fast food in blister pack bags and beverage cups littered the floor. On the seat beside him was a vernacular daily, a copy of a news magazine and a couple of piano CD's. As the car cruised further into the mountains the ‘Big’ radio station he had been listening to started to crackle and break up. He steadied the wheel with a couple of fingers only and loaded a CD into the player. The car was filled with the sound of U2, singing elevation.

Just south of the small town there were a couple of hitchhikers along the road. The first two were a grubby looking pair of men which Hanish barely looked at. But his eyes were drawn to the slim girlish figure standing alone clutching a small pack to her side almost as though it were a teddy bear. The wind was blowing her slight curly hair, wildly. For some unknown reason, she held a crocheted close-fitting soft pink cap. She wore a pair of flared, faded and somewhat tattered blue jeans and a kurti that was a loose-fitting long sleeved soft khadi fabric in olive green. He whistled under his breath as he pulled over to pick her up. 'She's just a kid.' he thought, 'They just get younger.'

She seemed to struggle to pull open the passenger door and he was again struck by how young and fragile she looked. She put her bag on the seat between them and managed a shy smile at him before her eyes slid self-consciously to her hands in her lap. "Thanks." she said in a near whisper.

Hanish put the car back into gear and glanced over his shoulder before accelerating back onto the highway. He glanced sidelong at his passenger, wondering what she was running away from. "How far you going?" he asked.
"Nagercoil." she murmured softly, still only one word.

Hanish chuckled lightly to himself. "Great," he told her, "I'm headed there too, you're in luck."

"Thanks." she whispered again.

Hanish concentrated more on his driving now as the road wound it's way through some of the most spectacular scenery on the country, the highway clung to mountainsides and traversed through busy traffic and wound through paddy fields. He cast occasional surreptitious looks at the girl beside him. She, for her part, was absolutely silent but her eyes watched the passing scenery with something akin to reverence.

The U2 CD ended and Hanish reached for the other album on the seat beside him. He held it out towards the girl and she looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"Put that on will you." he said with a grin. She glanced at the CD and smiled shyly. She fumbled a bit with the CD player but managed to get the CD in. The sounds of Santoor filled the car. Though he was still watching the road, he smiled as he noticed that she was tapping her fingers in time to the music.

"You like?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly, another one-word answer.

"Good." he replied. "Shivkumar Sharma is pretty good, he reminds me of mountains – Kashmir, in fact. By the way, I'm Hanish."

She glanced briefly at him and lapsed into silence, her eyes again falling to study the papers and magazines between them. When a few moments went by without a word from her, Hanish tried again.

"I'm Hanish." he repeated softly, "What's your name, kid?"

Her fingers brushed the magazine cover nervously before she finally spoke, "I'm River," she answered, "and I'm not a kid."

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as the car negotiated an especially tight turn with a dizzying drop off on his left, but all the same he'd noticed her fingers had passed over a headline which read The River is Crying. He smiled to himself.

"Okay River, pleased to meet you." he told her. "So what takes you to Nagercoil?"

"You do." she said, with a sarcastic tone.

Hanish laughed deeply and heartily. She had spirit and speed, for sure, he thought, maybe after all she was old enough to be out on the road. She laughed nervously too as though relieved he had not become angry at her sarcasm.
The car sped on, eating up more miles of road. Past the green paddy fields, Hanish began to feel hungry and tired. 'Time for a break,' he thought, then almost guiltily he wondered how long it had been since River had eaten anything.

"We'll be in about twenty minutes," he told her, "I need to get diesel, and I'm getting something to bite, okay?"

"Okay," she said, still watching the ever changing scenery as they sped along.
When he slid from the car at the fuel station, she clung to her backpack and watched him with something akin to fear in her eyes. He wondered again just what she was running from or perhaps it was running to. He made a half-hearted effort to clean the highway dust and squished moths off the windshield and when he started on her side of the glass he waved and winked at her through the window and was pleased when she relaxed a little and stuck out her tongue at him.

The brief intermission that creeped into my creative journey has caused paralysis.

Every time I sit down to write, something grips my hands and stops me from moving on. It is not lethargy, not laziness.

The images this time are unusually vivid, the scenes sensuous, actors in an elevated state of existence.

Confusion, now is if I should go ahead and pen down all that comes to my mind or not. I am afraid that Angel might not quite relish it, for the content might appear erotic.

I get these unusual visions of how the two - the Angel and the Demon - have become inseparable.

I will continue to write on the Angel and the Demon if I am convinced that the Angel approves it. I doubt it, very much, because I believe that the Angel is yest to be ready to take wings.

Confusion confounded....!

Angel..., it's all in your hands. Help me, Save me.

Finally, we were alone,together. I’d never thought it’d happen.

I reached out to touch Angel’s thoughts but ended up touching her hand!

It was rather spontaneous - "Are you going to leave me?" Angel asked. I meant to say "Never" but within a flash, something prompted me to take her hand into mine and I reach for that slender shapely left hand!

Maybe because it was quite unexpected, she retracted her hand as if in shock!

It was a shock. Indeed.

The energy didn't take much time to travel through my veins into my heart. This relationship won’t be easy. Who knows what’ll happen?

The silence that followed was mysterious.

"You were not supposed to do that, how could you do it?"

"Why am I not 'supposed to do it'?" I asked. The mysterious silence prevailed. Again, for a long time.

"That, indeed, was a test, my sweet heart. To see if you are ready, to see if you are prepared to take wings." I told myself.

"When will you give me wings?" Angel was anxious.

"Not until you are ready for it." I quip. "It is part of a process and is also ritualistic." Angel wouldn't understand the meaning of what I said.

She was writhing in pain. The anxiety was brimming on the border of an explosion.

I can not be more romantic, for I do not know how to be one. but I hope we’ll have lifetimes to figure that out.

She gathered into a dense purple vapor, and let out a grumble. “You’re such a poor student. What did I teach you?”

“I’ll always be part of you,” I repeated.

I was getting anxious too. to give my angel "wings". I can't wait anymore but she is not ready, yet.

She wants me to give her clues. I could give her more!

It could be Sweet or Sour; it could be Pleasure or Pain.

"That's too vague" she remarked.

"Yes, it is, only as long as you don't trust me". This business of wings is part of a process and is ritualistic and is rooted on trust. "You don't get wings as long as you don't have trust."

"You also need to be prepared" for the ritual that it is.

Let me know, when you are ready.

“Here’s where I must leave you,” Angel said.

Her black eyes held me to my seat. “You need a man to see the grace in you.

I see wondrous things. Remember, I’ll always be with you. Don’t be frightened or live by fear.” She kissed his cheek and left an imprint of roses. Angel stood by the side of the car and undressed. The coat slipped from her shoulders, and she stood tall, her wings magnificent. Their height and breadth hid her body with brilliant snowy feathers contrasting against the red rock.

I etched that brilliant image in my mind.

I walked over to where Angel stood and picked up my overcoat. “Leave me,” she commanded.
“It’s desolate here. What if something happens or goes wrong?” I didn't want to leave her alone.
Her voice lightened. “I’ll be fine. Remember my words. This is my gift to you.” She kissed me on the forehead - a sweet kiss of grace.

Dwarfed by the mountain of rock, she appeared fragile. I reached out my arms to protect her. A mist rose up from the ground and blinded my vision. I wandered, lost in the wall of fog, calling
out... "Angel....". But there was no answer. When the mist cleared, she was gone.

Tears drifted down my face. “I need you.”

“You must stay here”, she said. Taking a tissue from the glove box, I wiped my tears and took a loose stand of hair that was stuck behind my ear. The only remaining thing from the Angel!

'Don’t ever give up hope', i said to myself. Angel’s teasing washed over me, her nebulous form clouding up.

“Angel, where were you?” Her human form pulsated as she swirled around me, leaving vapor trails of lavender.

“Still in human form? You must like it,” I said. “I like you better without it. Come with me. We’re lucky your impetuous behavior went unnoticed by the hierarchy.” I shoved my hands on my hips, refusing to move. “You didn’t answer me. You left me in a mud hole in the middle of nowhere. My only fault is that I love You. How was I to know that the shock of our meeting would cause me to fall free?”

“Causing you to fall, and me to follow,” she sniffed. Her eyes darkened to a deep amethyst. “Your impetuous whim almost costs us dearly. And, as far as finding you, I had things to do. I can’t
baby-sit you forever. Anyway, you seemed to have done fine without me. You don’t need me anymore.”

Angel faded from my sight. I sensed a certain sadness in her voice that caused me pain. I shouted, “ Stay with me.”

It seemed ages since my hallucinatory dream took hold of my mind, convincing me of angels – what nonsense.

I remembered - the arid desert, sagebrush, and the strange pink and purple flowers that squeezed out from the cacti, mocking me that they survived harsher conditions than my own pathetic life. I had wakened in a sweat, my eyes aching from a nagging headache, shaken from a dream made terrifying by its reality. No good to think of the black-haired angel who haunted my
memories.

Even now, on my dresser, was a twig like a talisman, the one I found in my overcoat pocket. A feather, translucent and brittle, with a thread of black hair stuck between the quills, smelling
faintly of lavender.

Icy gusts of wind kicked up and I pulled up the frayed collar of my overcoat. I’ll have to break down and buy a new coat soon. Yet, the coat held memories of her. The glance at my wristwatch
made me pick up my pace. It wouldn’t be good to be late for the meeting.

A white feather blew in the breeze, skimming the sidewalk, looping in circles before settling near my feet. I picked up the feather and ran the quills through my fingers. I shoved it in my pocket
along with my anxiety.

Surprised at the red brick lofts, I checked the address I had written down on a piece of notepaper - the early morning drowsiness had not cleared when i noticed the advertisement in the local newspaper and made the phonecall for an appointment - this was the place. The meeting was to be at someone else's home.

When the door opened, I lost my voice. Soft russet hair fell in curls down her back, and when she smiled, I refused to breathe.

“Hi, you must be Hari. I’m Kalindi. Come in.” She opened the door wide and I stepped into the sunlit room.

Kalindi's eyes widened into round orbs, and I frowned, wondering why she looked surprised to see me. “I called you for an appointment," I said. "You told me two o’clock.”

“Yeah, sure,” and she bit her index finger, her face turned a bit pale. All I noticed was her eyes. “Angel?” I said.

“Kalindi, my name is Kalindi.”

“Yeah, yeah, right. I’m Hari.”

“I know. You told me,” she said, and smiled again, and her body relaxed. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea, water…”

“Nothing for me.” I’d have a hard time answering her questions if she kept smiling like that, and I sank to the nearest chair and crossed his arms.

I answered her questions in monosyllables, not daring to look at her angelic face. While her eyes weren’t as black, they were familiar and disturbing - soft, tender and dangerous. Somehow, I got through the meeting and to my astonishment, she stood up to shake my hand in acceptance of my proposal.

Seasons blended into months, then years, and my secret love for Kalindi consumed him. What remained was the pain. I had yet to admit to this love, too grand to put into words, too
fragile to risk losing. Yet, Kalindi refused to let me go. She'd wormed her way in, and light shone with triumph between the cracks in my shell. Did Kalindi love me too?!..

“Isn’t this breathtaking!” Angel opened the window and said, looking outside. Her deep breaths took in the fresh air from the outside. Once again, I thought how beautiful she was.

The dirt road led through a landscape of scraggily brush and cacti with a jagged mountain of red rock - their destination. How did she talk him into driving a car hundreds of miles to nowhere?
The tires bounced on the dirt road, sending the windows rattling, along with the glove box and the plastic pieces of the dash. I squinted against the harsh sun, and wished I'd remembered my sunglasses. They were back on my dresser where I'd left them, too anxious to think straight.
A roadrunner dashed across the road, and he swerved to avoid turning the poor creature into road-kill. “How did you know I’d help you?” I asked.

An uncommon lightness touched my shoulder, “You’re full of grace.”

I slammed on the brakes. The tires spat up bits of rock, a cacophony of discordant sound as they hit the underbelly of the car. The car engine hummed.“Why did you stop?” A veil dropped over her eyes.

Calm as a serene lake, nothing to break the smooth surface of her expression, I trembled in my seat. “Where’re we going?” I demanded, and kept my gaze on the horizon. I refused to become lost in her beauty, and clutched the steering wheel.

“To the mountain.” She blinked black lights. I slumped in my seat, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. “Tell me the truth.” I begged.

“I did.”

Did I feel sick?

Sliding beside her, I touched her hair and an overwhelming feeling of love surprised me. I could smell the lavender, once again. My hands started shivering to grasp onto her coat. Fingers caught in the folds of the fabric.

My face moved across to her neck. She pulled away, without even seeing my action. Not his time, not now - I thought. Although it was very hard to resist.I put my foot on the gas pedal and maneuvered onto the road. Angel's hair strands flew out the window like streamers. My hands gripped the wheel and my eyes stayed fixed on the road. The red mountain loomed closer, only a few more minutes. I stepped on the gas and the landscape blurred.

Angel sat there like a praying monk, with her eyes closed, hands in lap. She spoke gently, “You know something? I think you expect too much from people. You want them to fill up your emptiness". You can only do this by opening your heart, more.”

“I’ve no heart. Didn’t you listen?” I almost shouted and guided the car to a halt at the foot of a bell-shaped mountain.

I found myself driving several hundred miles to a place unknown, all on faith. A vast open space of nothing, and my stomach grumbled, my hands dancing on the steering wheel. I believed in God but not much in angelic beings. Abstractly, I conjured images of angels from books I read from childhood. Here I am, testing my faith and surprise, surprise,..! An angel is sitting next to me. Staring out the window, my face shuttered.

“Does your name have a meaning?” she queried.

“It’s impossible to translate my name into angelic tongue. We’re not named in the same way as you are. It’s more a musical sound. It roughly means Happiness"

I rested my head against the backrest and hummed a tune trying to hold her hand. I dont know if she liked the feel of my hand. The sky appeared to change colours, turning purple and pink at the same time. The sun became a ball of sliver before it disappeared below the wall of mountains. I could sense that Angel started shivering and I helped rolling up her side of the window. The lavender scent pierced through my nostrils and a vacuum of silence descended.

I squeezed her hand and let go.

I swept back, mildly touching her breasts and managed to touch her glossy lips, in a flash.

I say "you are a beautiful angel.”

My foot slipped off the pedal and the car careened across the dividing line. oncoming cars honked, fear slowed down time, the smell of burned rubber whiffed up my nose, a squeak rising from my throat. The leather wheel sweated in my hands. Cars missed us by inches, and our car twirled in circles before stopping on the side of the road. Not a ruffle of concern broke Angel's composure, I stared at Angel with my mouth opened. “You did this. Saved me from an accident. Or worse, from getting killed.”

“Of course,” she winked. “I can’t have you dying in my care."

“She didn’t want to be thanked.” I scratched my chin.

She pointed to a mountain that resembled a giant rusty bell. “There’s where I must go. Stop the car! I can walk the rest of the way.

Don't you feel hungry?" I asked.

She gave me a famished look.

“You mean I need food...and stuff? I don’t, but I’m not without my petty desires.”

She sat down at the sofa, leaned back and rested her legs on the coffee table. “Dont think that I am inexperienced angel. Oh, no, no, no. I’m quite ancient.”

She narrowed her eyes, smacked her glossy lips and asked. “Do you have a name?”

“Sure I do. But I like to be called by my nick name. Nicknames are great. Like 'Devil'.”

I, sometimes get into some tight spots. Nothing serious. My mate should’ve helped me.

Angel adjusted her bathrobe. “Can’t you get me something decent to wear? A bathrobe isn’t very dignified.”

Angel took the steps, two at a time and locked the bedroom door behind her. The bed beckoned. It was a perfect spot to collapse. She threw herself onto the mattress and covered her eyes with her palms. She sat up, startled to find me going through her closet.

“How did you get in?” she asked.

“You think locked doors are a challenge?” I sized up a pair of pyjamas that would suit Angel.
I went to the dresser and took out a paisley necktie and threaded it through the belt loops. “There, that should help.”

I stepped into her space, her skin spicy with a strong scent of lavender. My fingers tickled her chin and her touch felt cool. Joy ruptured my soul, and an unexpected sensation caught me off guard.

Curls silky against her cheek, and my nose touched the tip of her ear. “You’re so beautiful, Angel, never forget this.” I released my hold.

“Not many think like that.” she said.

I held out my hand and gloved her fingers in my palm. “It only takes one person to appreciate the real you. You must keep hope alive.” I pressed the tip of her fingers over my lips, and traced it down to my chin. She glanced through the contour of my shoulders, and ran her palms down my arms. My kiss must have penetrated and left her with a sweet meltdown, her emotions a puddle on the floor.

I soaked my hands in the pond of water, trying to ignore her presence. Instead, I concentrated on rinsing my fingers cups. Angel sat on the floor, her legs crossed like a Buddha. “I see no heart in your work, Ha__” she said.

Swishing around the water and without a turn, fear buried me like an avalanche. When did I mention my name? Why all this talk about heart?

“I wasn’t born with one.”

I drummed the surface of the water with my fingers. When her hands slid protectively around my waist, I jumped. The fragrance of lavender made me dizzy. I reached for the edge of the counter to steady my legs.

“If you have no heart, why did you help me? You gave me the coat off your back even though you were freezing. You offered me food, although you had no food.” She quizzed.

Angel pressed herself against my back.

No tears, I refused to break down. The compassion in her voice hurt my chest. And then, she said what he dreaded the most. “You loved me with all your heart.”

My palms splashed down on the water surface, sending up a geyser, soaking her face and pyjamas.
Angel, unfurled, stretching her arms and legs. With a graceful hop, she stood up. She puckered her lips and the velvet quality reminded me of what I missed in loving a woman.

I stared at my hands. “I’ve never loved a woman --"

“It’s what you've come to expect. But expectations can change.” She philosophised.

“I’ll never be the guy who wakes up happy because the sun’s shining.”

A smile escaped her lips. “Of course not, but what do you want?”

“To be loved by a woman. Do Angels fall in love? "

“Because I’m not human, I cannot love? Love is causing me no end of trouble. Like you, I’ve my lessons to learn.”

I flung on my back, staring up at the ceiling. “Will you be my mate for eternity. I want no other.”

“Your soul-mate,” Angel said, wistfully. “I wish somebody else had felt this way.”

I leaped up on my feet. “This boyfriend you’re with, does he give you what you need?”

“He loves me.” She stressed.

“Does he give you what you need? Does he satisfy all your needs?”

Angel bit her thumbnail that was recently clipped (the piano must have told her to do that) out and closed her eyes 'He thought only of himself'. The solitude she sought in the park must have been to answer this very question.

“I’m not sure." She said with some regret in her voice. “Loneliness is with you now. You must trust yourself to make the right decision.” she continued with her philosophy.

I stepped out into the stairwell.

“Now you must take me to the red mountain; it is the only portal open to me.” She said.

"The red mountain'?, Where on earth would I find a red mountain?

“This is nice,” she said.

I watched her near the kitchen sink. She was floating.

He tried to laugh, but it was mirthless as she went back to filling the kettle with tap water.

An unfinished painting rested on an easel, and she raised an exquisite brow, “You’re an artist..!"

“Also", I said.

The kettle whistled from the stove, and she poured the boiling water into a pan.

I massaged my shoulder blades to ease the tension.

“What’s perfume are you wearing?

Ignoring him, she rested her chin on her palm.

“Why are you so complicated? I feel it in your drawing”.

I pulled out a rickety chair, once a bright brown, now dull and gray, the flecks of paint the only memory of its former glory. He waved her over to sit, and went around the table and sat on a wooden crate. With caution, she cupped the mug in her hands and sniffed. Steam misted her face and her nose wrinkled. A look of apprehension crossed her face, but she took a tentative sip. She looked up and smiled. “so, I’m your angel. Why dont you call me by name? Now that I dont have any wings”, her voice tingling like tiny bells.

A far away look in her eyes made me uncomfortable. “So, that’s why there were so many feathers,” he thought.

“Yes, they were my wings,” and she twisted around and dropped the back of the overcoat. Two sharp marks, evenly spaced, punctured her shoulder blades. I leaned over the table and touched one of the punctures. The wounds were still fresh.. I wanted to stoke them, make them go away, an alien emotion, this feeling of tenderness towards her.

Angel propped her elbows on the table. She leaned in, and I mimicked her pose, thinking she was going to tell me a secret. Her chin rested in her hands. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t near a place of protection,” she said. “You’ll take me there.”

I never believed in angels or miracles, until I met her. I rubbed the back of my neck to alleviate the headache that was sure to come on. Angels !

Angel paraded around the apartment in a bath-robe. Every so often, she wiped down her arms and legs with a wet washcloth, chunks of dirt hitting the floor. “Nice place you have.” She walked over to a desk and played a few notes on the piano keyboard.

“Shouldn’t you already know this?” Angel sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, her head swimming. She was alone with a lone man in an apartment, wearing a bathrobe, claiming to be an angel !

Why, are you unhappy, Angel?” I stopped in mid-stride and sniffed the air. “Why dont you finish the tea? I could really drink some more.”

I'm sorry, I forgot that angels only drink from the nectar of the Gods?”

I walked along the dirt path, face down, and the bitter wind slowing me down.

Today my mind wandered in a park. My pain took residence in my mind, and I became lost in the memories of a time when love seemed imminent. .A feather teased my cheek and woke me to the reality of where I was. The soft barbs ticked my cheek, and I looked up at the sky for an explanation. A white cloud of feathers rained down. Catching one in my hand, I crushed the softness between my fingers, and the scent of lavender hit my nostrils. I dropped the feather down the ground and walked past it.

The path in front of me lay covered with a trail of feathers. It reminded me of shaving cream squirted out of a can, winding into a grove of trees, naked limbs stretched out in all directions. I followed the trail. The closer I got to the clearing, the thicker the scent of lavender fragranced the air. I stooped and picked up another feather. Holding it up to the weak sunlight I could see a brilliant rainbow of colors leaped off the barbs. I checked my pocket for holes in the lining, and satisfied nothing would fall out. I shoved the feather in my shirt pocket for safekeeping. I didn’t believe in omens, but this feather needed my protection.

I took the bend in the trail and halted. She lay there in foetal position.

Feathers were everywhere - stuck in her hair, streaming down her back, blanketing her skin like a velvet cape. An ethereal image she made, with her pearl skin and russet hair tumbling in waves of not so robust curls.

Kneeling by her side, I brushed back the curls hiding her face. “Lady, are you all right?”
Eyelids fluttered, thick lashes flashed like fire in the sun, and her eyes opened wide.
I gaped at her black irises, rimmed in gold, captivating eyes that snagged me. In that short moment, I became her willing servant, or maybe, her victim? I frowned, and fought to control my shaking knees. Yet, I knew whatever she’d ask of me, I would do. Even if it meant that I’d give up his last dime.

I removed my thin overcoat and thrust it in her hands.

“What do you want me to do with this?” she asked.

“Well, put it on.”

She struggled into the coat, her arms tangling with the sleeves. I helped her slip her arms through the overcoat.

I could have caught a good glimpse of her from close quarters but preferred to press my desire and averted my eyes, focusing on the dead grass sticking to my knees.

She tilted her head to the side, holding me tight. Her lips turned up into an amused smile, the smile so wide it overtook her face. She was beautiful.

"You’ll help me,” she said.

This was not a question and I leaned back on my haunches.

Another desire came over me to sweep away the loose strands of hair splayed on her cheeks. But I clasped my hands to prevent myself from doing something as incredibly stupid.

I stood up and picked off the feathers stuck to my trousers. A flurry of snow blinded my vision, and I scurried along the path, hugging myself to keep warm. Don’t turn around. Don’t look back. Yet, my heart tugged, and yet again, I didn’t listen to my head, but my heart. I turned around. She remained curled up, her face and toes peeking out from under my coat. I turned back.

Angel hated walking on the treadmill. She’d rather be playing piano at he school, or sweating it out at a dance class. But today, she had to think without distractions. An important decision had to be made.

Raindrops tickled the back of my neck, and I shook out the hood of my gray raincoat before flipping it over the head. A silver feather drifted from the sky and I caught it in my hand. Before I had a chance to wonder where the feather came from, a deluge of feathers drizzled down on my head. When the air cleared, I could see her, crawled on her hands and knees, frantically gathering feathers into her outstretched hand.

I looked around. The path was eerily quiet and it set my heart racing. She inched backwards and looked up. My heart swept up to my throat. She was drenched in dirty.

“You. Come here,” she demanded. “I need your help.”

I shook my head.

“Help me,” she said. “Come on.”

I looked down at her feet, her shoes buried under a carpet of feathers. She knelt down, her hands sinking into the soft pile.

“Who are you?”

“I’ll tell you all about me. Later.” She scanned the canopy of naked trees. “Where am I?”

Ah, this is not good. I told myself.

“No kidding!” she grabbed my wrist and her touch set me on edge. Black eyes blinked from her cutle little face, a sharp nose emphasized her soft cheeks. Long limbed, her body stretched out. Dirt smeared her arms and legs, she smiled at her hands and feet caked in mud. Really, the scene was absurd, but my heart felt lightened.

“I’m a mess! Leave it to me to fall in a puddle of mud,” she grumbled, and wiped her hands on her thighs, smearing dark smudges down her torn trouser legs. “Just my luck. Now, where is he?”

“You need to wash and change your clothes” I said.

“I don’t have any,” she shrugged. “Hey, maybe you can get me something to cover up? How about it?”

“Well, I guess I could. You see, I live close by. I guess I can get you a blanket -- or something.”

“Well, what’re you waiting for?”

“First, tell me who you are?” I enquire.

“Angel, I’ve been with you since the day you were born.”

A ragged grin lit up my face.

“I’m your guardian angel. A bit rough around the edges, but,” she threw out her arms. “I’m all yours.” She peered down at her muddy feet. “I’m in a rather - ah - awkward position.” Her dark, black eyes darkened, and her skin turned a deeper shade.

How strange for an angel to be embarrassed. “What’s with the feathers?” I asked.

Unfortunately, those were my wings.”

“Oh my God, will you be okay?”

“Sure, they’ll grow back.”

“But why are they gray?”

“I prefer silver to gray. Not all angels have white wings.”

“But, gray?”

“Silver,” she emphasized, and shook her head. Her voice rose with annoyance. “My mate should be somewhere around here?” She stood up and picked at the dirt under her nails with a quill.

I stuttered at the glorious shape of the half-naked Angel.

“You -- you shouldn’t stand up like that.” I said.

Angel picked up her pace, and tried hard to fly. Her wings wouldn't let her fly!

It was ludicrous to believe in angels. But, who broke her wings?