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They sewed together peculiar phrases, trying to call him the most magnificent thing they’d beheld a thousand times uniquely: “As pleasing to see as a repaired chair, as pretty as a washed grapefruit in a porcelain bowl.” The angels shouted after him, “The Lord is good! The Lord is great! He has given us an angel of beauty! Angel of beauty! Angel of beauty!”
“Oh, my robes are torn! They’re torn! And I’m still bleeding!” “Your clothes can be fixed.” “They were a gift!” “Mended clothing is a sign of love and use, brother.”
“Lucifer!” Baal’s voice, cheery. “Look up!” He spoke the moment Lucifer realized the light all about them flickered. He turned his head upward, as they broke through the firmament, and was instantly enveloped by a cold abyss — could only feel the breath just reeled in drawn out from his mouth again.
