A long time ago I learned to love the world. It took a while. I mean a long, long, long while. And even then, I was…hesitant to fully accept what I felt.
I spent centuries studying people. Watching, waiting, studying, and learning the secrets of their emotions and their conception of love. I was born without a heart. I had to learn every emotion individually and come to terms with their meaning.
From the second my existence started in the high ranks of heaven, I never would have pictured my endless life stretching as far as it did. I expected to die quickly. When I lost my angelic wings and halo, I lived among the turmoil. I experienced society. Twenty first century magic that was existing.
After I gained my powers back, nothing much changed. I flew around, used the halo light to heal a good person here and there, but it all became mundane. Like a job. It was no longer satisfying.
I lost my love.
So, where was I now. Thinking about pointless things while I followed a familiar track.
The time I fell to earth to begin a real life. It had felt peaceful and purposeful. This time I just wanted it to end.
My back slammed against concrete. Something broke. I heard the crack as I created a indentation in the crater. As if noon traffic in Chicago needed any other interruption. My clothes were mainly intact other than a tear or two. My jacket was starting to slump off, but by nudging my wings, which were tucked neatly under my clothes, I was able to keep the designer garment from falling off. Hell if I was going to let three hundred dollars not get a workout.
I slogged to my feet. Anything from the waist up was numb. I took an awkward horse stance to keep myself standing. My arms hung like wet towels, a few beads of liquid gold dripped from my wounds to the ground, sprouting a bouquet of roses and daisies.
I managed to raise my head. People scattered as the beast floated towards me.
The monster presented with an aura of authority, destruction, and control. He wanted to possess everything. His endless hunger had turned his wings black, matching his oily hair that draped over his face.
“Well,” He said. His graveled voice, like gargling rocks, turned the air to stone. Car alarms silenced, people became muted, and glass that had become splintered by my reentry remained still and silent.
“Well, what?” I said as I slowly regained movement in my arms. “I told you I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to regret this.”
Satan belched a riot of a laugh. One that rattled bones and told all bystanders to run as far away from Georgia as possible. He stretched his arms out in an invitation.
And I obliged.
Fuck the jacket. Fuck my insecurities. Fuck my weak nature. I was fighting this.
I ripped the expensive jacket off, threw it aside along with my undershirt. My one good wing unfurled in its feather, metal, flesh glory, clanking into place outstretched as each individual metal plate locked into place. My left wing didn’t move. It slacked to the ground like a piece of sheet metal.
The limb had been snapped underneath the steel shell. Some of the metallic feathers twitched in hopes to respond from my commands. But it remained hopeless.
“All you have to do is say the word,” Satan said.
“No!” I yelled. I reached behind and tore the wing from my back. It peeled off like chunks being pushed from a muddy surface. The entire wing smacked to the ground in a steaming heap.
Good thing I only needed one wing to fly.
I pushed off with all my might and smashed my body into Satan’s. We tussled and flipped, turned and bounced, fought and struggled in a mess of limps and metal. My halo gleamed, his horns protruded.
Until I gained the upper hand and launched us back into the same crater. I pinned his wings, situated my legs so he couldn’t kick, and landed the sloppiest kiss I could imagine.
Satan smirked, blushed, and laughed loudly, “Alright, alright. Pizza Man it is.”
Finally! I won! After twenty years, I got to choose the romantic venue for once.
“Hell, yes!” I screamed in glee.
“Do you want appetizers?” I said as my wing grew back and both of us flapped off to my favorite restaurant of choice.
All those decades paid off as my sixth date with Satan got underway. And, man, did I have a night planned for the sexy fucker.
Woot!!!! Next promptly:
Someone stole the moon!