| Комментарии |
| casper_MALK_ |
14 ноября 2013 10:38
|
Приключенец
|
The angel can’t stop thinking about the man with the tiger tattooed on his arm, no matter how hard he tries. Images of his taut muscles, light brown skin, and sharp laugh creep around the corners of its mind. This is unacceptable; the human is unimportant to the mission. The angel performs self-diagnostics obsessively, attempting to purge itself of this invasive meme, this earthly lust, but it can’t. When it gives in, it — he — Falls.
She can’t help but hate him. Everything he does aggravates her, from his total lack of control when it comes to his fleshy hungers to the casual cruelty with which he treats his mate and offspring. The smell of him makes her gag. Even the sound of his voice is almost unendurable. She tries to perform her function, but one day her hate bubbles over. She catches his arm as he lifts it and twists until it comes off. She continues to tear into him with such glee and ferocity that she almost doesn’t notice when she Falls from grace.
He has watched this city for a thousand years, certain that he will watch it forever, standing silent vigil over the lives and deaths of its myriad mortals. He doesn’t notice how human he has become until the order arrives: he has been recalled. Wounded pride, fear, and rage threaten to strangle him. He kills the angel sent to replace him and Falls, at last, into its streets.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Приключенец
|
| Регистрация: |
17.11.2008 |
| E-mail |
Нет доступа |
| Приват |
Отправить |
| WWW |
Нет данных |
| ICQ |
Нет данных |
| Профиль |
Перейти |
июнь |
| пн |
вт |
ср |
чт |
пт |
сб |
вс |
| | | | | | | 1 | | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | | 30 | | | | | | |
|
