Angels Before Man

by Rafael Nicolás

“Not long. I’ll find you. And if I’m told to take to the stars again, I’ll just take you with me.”

‘I feel aged. I feel as if you’ve aged me with your own hands, Michael. Ripened me. Like a red fruit, at the edge of a branch, hanging at its peak. Beautiful — and just about to fall.’

‘In vain, I love you; in vain, the dawn streaming onto you, beside me; in vain, I want to be yours, your angel. Angel of love, angel of Michael.’

“Michael, open your eyes. See for yourself how He has caused us only pain. All those years I was silent, did your heart not ache for me? You saw me cry, you held me, you heard all the angels say Father was good even as He hurt me, hurt me—” Breaths were spluttering out of his mouth as bile. “I can’t do it anymore, not again—” His hands fell, onto Michael’s shoulders, gripping tight to keep steady, to keep the other captive. “I want Him gone.”

Haven’t you ever wondered why Father is so strict about our subservience? It’s because disobedience is creation,” a shivering breath, “create with me, Michael, and let’s call it sin.”