It was early morning. The night creatures were returning to their hiding places and the mist were starting to disappear. There were some rustling of large leaves and crackling of grass and undergrowth as a soft thump was heard. A jungle rodent was seen scurrying from one end of the clearing to another.
A wing had fallen off from a young timid angel as the first rays of morning light kissed her body. She was bleeding from the stump, and in pain, just as her heart was bleeding love. There was no one to wrap his arm around her, to feel safe with. It was way back, when Love was always there for her, but the memories were fading. With disbelief, came the disappearance of her fellowship of angels. Sometimes, she too had wondered if god really existed. The evidence grew stronger everyday – it was really part of human’s wish fulfillment. Everyone had been wishing for a ‘secret garden’ to feel complete with, if he or she so desired.
But it didn’t matter anymore. Her survival depended on the human will. If everyone could still work out their own ‘celestial destiny’, even if in their imagination, then she would one day be able to grow back her wing and soar above the clouds, and she would be able to air dance to the delight of her makers.
Story mine (c)
Painted from blank digital canvas.
Crap! I'm not good with wings, that's why I left out one. Hopefully, I'll be able to make better wings next time :-)
Song for inspiration: Flying without Wings by Westlife
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