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|The Not Quite Fallen Angel (standard:fantasy, 1419 words)|
|Author: Ira L. White||Added: Dec 09 2002||Views/Reads: 1838/1092||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|By the way, how did Cupid get his job? If you don't know, read this story and find out.|
The Not Quite Fallen Angel Golden light shone from all around illuminating butterflies floating in the clear air and flowers bowing in the gentle breeze. Birds were singing, and bees were buzzing about their appointed tasks in the Heavenly Garden. In the middle of it all sat God. He was not amused. The expression on his face was threatening to bring dark clouds, thunder and lightning to the Heavenly Gardens. The object of His displeasure was merrily skipping up the garden path with a smile as bright and mischievous as the sun on a warm summer day. As the small winged figure rounded the last corner in the path it caught sight of the Lord frowning up a storm. “Uh-oh,” chirped the now alarmed angel taking a step backwards as if to erase the fact that he had rounded that particular corner and ran smack dab into the face of an angry Lord who was now surrounding him in all directions at once. “You can't back down this path,” growled the Lord. “I am not going to let you get away.” “Eeeek!” squeaked the angel. “None of your philosophical manipulations will get you out of this one!” exclaimed the Lord. “Please, Lord!” squealed the little angel. “Please have mercy on me!” “Were you thinking of my mercy when you shot Gabriel in the backside with your arrow?” “He shouldn't tempt me like that...” “Shouldn't tempt you? Can't you take responsibility for your acts? I know you are the littlest and youngest angel I created, but can't you learn something from all this?” “I have learned, Lord.” “Just out of curiosity, what is it you have learned?” Quick as a wink, God had transported the two to His throne room and was now sitting and drumming His fingers on the arms of His very imposing royal throne. “And I don't want any smart answers like, ‘I learned to allow for the crosswind.'” “Gosh, Lord. It's not fair! You are allowed to have fun and play jokes. Why can't I?” “Because you are not God, that's why. I gave you powers, and I expect you to use them responsibly or you just might find yourself out the gate with the rest of the rebel angels.” “No, Lord! Not that!” “OK, then, I'll give you another chance. Just stay out of trouble. By the way, you're grounded from the bow. I'm leaving it behind my throne, and I expect to see it there when I come back.” The Lord arose gathering His robe about Him and strolled in the direction of the Enchanted Shore where He was long overdue for a visit. The unhappy angel sat down cross-legged in front of the empty throne for a few moments in deep thought. Slowly, he arose and with his head bowed; he walked back to the rose garden. An orange and black butterfly flitted by, and he began to chase it. When he caught it, he started to clap it between his hands. He paused and upon further thought decided not to. Instead he let it go watching it flit up into the air. Next, he reached into a bird's nest hanging from a low limbed tree, grabbed a brown speckled egg and suddenly put it back without throwing it. His intended target, the angel Michael, glanced in his direction. “Your horns are showing, little one. Have you been in or are you about to be in trouble again?” “Yes to both, Michael. I just don't know what to do with myself.” Click here to read the rest of this story (121 more lines)
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