Nel blu dipinto di blu, Dean met Domenico. They grinned at each other, shook hands as angels sang backing vocals. Happy? Felice…
The miniature angel climbed up the inside of the bus window. I opened it, careful not to crush her. With a flash of her wand and a buzz of her wings, she spiralled out into the hot damp air.
Green was the colour of the angels as they swept down, swords trailing sparks which tumbled like falling stars and settled in our upturned eyes. I do not know why they left the children alive; we did not deserve it.
Many years later, when the red sky had returned to morning, my grandmother, just before dying, whispered to me the secret of the family.
With my sister I went to the forge on the bank of the shining river and in the ashes found my sword. I shook off my cloak and unfurled my green wings. The sky closed forever.
First published on http://www.101fiction.com 01March 2015
My job? I wipe the dirt from the faces of angels. Sometimes the beauty is lessened and I cry.