sparrow

An angel visited me today, whilst I was walking in the woods. I came to a clearing and there he was, the angel. He was hanging from a tree, all angel-like, with a broken neck. From where I stood the sun framed his head like a halo. He looked down at me with eyes deader than air. I picked up a stone and threw it at him. It missed his head by a few inches and was consumed by the halo and burnt up. Somewhere a bird laughed all trill-like: maybe a woodpecker, maybe a sparrow. A piece of paper fell from the angel’s left hand into the brown and yellow leaves. I took up the paper and smoothed it out.

‘Goodbye’ it read.

‘Goodbye’ I said. ‘Goodbye? Where are you going?’

The angel was silent.

‘That’s what I thought.’

A bird laughed again. Blood was dripping from behind the angel’s left eye and collecting in a pool on his soiled t-shirt. He looked as though he’d been shot through the chest and frozen mid-air, to stay suspended ten feet above the ground, forever. The wind rattled through the forest. The angel swung from side to side and the tree creaked. A plane flew overhead. I picked up another stone and threw it at the angel, hitting him on the shoulder. One of his shoes was missing and his jeans were torn at the left knee, a small scab showing through the hole.

‘What sort of angel are you anyway?’

Silence.

‘No message for me?’

Silence.

‘If I’d met any other angels I’d say you’re the worst angel I’ve ever met.’

The tree branch snapped. The angel fell to the ground. I stood over his broken body. He looked so beautiful. Somewhere a bird had stopped laughing and started singing instead. I didn’t recognise the tune. It sounded good though. I took the watch from the angel’s wrist and fastened it to my own. It shone like the sun. I walked home, the bird’s beautiful singing to keep me company.