Home Again
“Gabriel,” a soft voice called and made him turn.
He was putting the finishing touches on the room he was preparing for her. This room was a little piece of earth on heaven for her; as close to earthly as anything could get in this ethereal environment. The walls were draped in gorgeous fabrics that shimmered in the golden light, and in the corner sat a collection of paints like no other on earth, whilst her window overlooked gorgeous mountains to waste days on.
He looked at the beautiful creature standing in the doorframe, bringing more golden light with her, even with the frown on her face.
“She’s not coming.” Ariel told him.
Gabriel felt his spirit sink for a moment. A look of pain crossed his face and his features crumpled.
“What do you mean, she’s not coming?”
Ariel took Gabriel by the hand and led him out of the room.
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Isla threw back the glass in her hand again, looking out over the now blurred, but still captivating, cityscape in front of her.
“I don’t even know what I believe anymore!” she yelled to no one in particular. A bottle smashed in the distance and some equally drunk youth yelled back at her.
Patrick scoffed and sidled alongside her. Nowhere near as drunk as she was, but he was getting there. He’d get there.
“Who cares?” he asked, swigging from his glass once more. Patrick admired the view too- the one next to him rather than the one in front of him. Shapely legs exposed under a floral skirt, a shirt that hugged her figure in all the right places.
“Maybe that’s how it’s meant to be, you know? Not knowing, just finding out.” The double entendre of Patrick’s words didn’t even register on Isla’s radar.
She simply nodded and continued sipping away as Patrick’s hand moved up her leg, too close to unconsciousness to even notice what was going on.
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“But she does believe,” Gabriel spoke quietly to Ariel, somehow scared of others hearing. “I hear her pray, I’ve heard her talk about Him.”
Ariel sighed and looked out over the crimson gilded landscape.
“She’s not coming now. But she might find her way back just yet.”
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Patrick breathed heavily on top of Isla. He ran his fingers along the side of her torso, digging his nails in slightly as he pulled himself closer. She didn’t remember how it started, but she was making no move to finish it. Isla smelled nothing but whisky, felt nothing but pressure, and saw nothing but darkness. She heard Patrick grunting, and the only thought in her mind before she faded out again was that this was how it was meant to be. She wasn’t made to be strong. Wasn’t built to be faithful. Wasn’t created to fight the desires of the flesh. So why not embrace them?
Patrick’s flesh moved roughly against her own.
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Gabriel carefully took down the precious fabrics and folded them neatly, and placed them in a box marked ‘Isla.’ The paints had already been stored away gently, and no light or exposure could cause them to perish anyway. Nothing perished in Heaven. Gabriel pulled the door closed as he walked outside, and found Ariel waiting for him. He smiled a weak smile as she fell into step with him.
“Don’t be sad, Gabriel,” she started, glowing with hope next to him. “The lamb will find her way home again.” She smiled now, “And then we can rearrange Heaven for her again.”
“I’d gladly rearrange it several times over so long as she makes it here,” he replied as they strolled along the emerald path.
He was putting the finishing touches on the room he was preparing for her. This room was a little piece of earth on heaven for her; as close to earthly as anything could get in this ethereal environment. The walls were draped in gorgeous fabrics that shimmered in the golden light, and in the corner sat a collection of paints like no other on earth, whilst her window overlooked gorgeous mountains to waste days on.
He looked at the beautiful creature standing in the doorframe, bringing more golden light with her, even with the frown on her face.
“She’s not coming.” Ariel told him.
Gabriel felt his spirit sink for a moment. A look of pain crossed his face and his features crumpled.
“What do you mean, she’s not coming?”
Ariel took Gabriel by the hand and led him out of the room.
------------------------------
Isla threw back the glass in her hand again, looking out over the now blurred, but still captivating, cityscape in front of her.
“I don’t even know what I believe anymore!” she yelled to no one in particular. A bottle smashed in the distance and some equally drunk youth yelled back at her.
Patrick scoffed and sidled alongside her. Nowhere near as drunk as she was, but he was getting there. He’d get there.
“Who cares?” he asked, swigging from his glass once more. Patrick admired the view too- the one next to him rather than the one in front of him. Shapely legs exposed under a floral skirt, a shirt that hugged her figure in all the right places.
“Maybe that’s how it’s meant to be, you know? Not knowing, just finding out.” The double entendre of Patrick’s words didn’t even register on Isla’s radar.
She simply nodded and continued sipping away as Patrick’s hand moved up her leg, too close to unconsciousness to even notice what was going on.
------------------------------
“But she does believe,” Gabriel spoke quietly to Ariel, somehow scared of others hearing. “I hear her pray, I’ve heard her talk about Him.”
Ariel sighed and looked out over the crimson gilded landscape.
“She’s not coming now. But she might find her way back just yet.”
------------------------------
Patrick breathed heavily on top of Isla. He ran his fingers along the side of her torso, digging his nails in slightly as he pulled himself closer. She didn’t remember how it started, but she was making no move to finish it. Isla smelled nothing but whisky, felt nothing but pressure, and saw nothing but darkness. She heard Patrick grunting, and the only thought in her mind before she faded out again was that this was how it was meant to be. She wasn’t made to be strong. Wasn’t built to be faithful. Wasn’t created to fight the desires of the flesh. So why not embrace them?
Patrick’s flesh moved roughly against her own.
------------------------------
Gabriel carefully took down the precious fabrics and folded them neatly, and placed them in a box marked ‘Isla.’ The paints had already been stored away gently, and no light or exposure could cause them to perish anyway. Nothing perished in Heaven. Gabriel pulled the door closed as he walked outside, and found Ariel waiting for him. He smiled a weak smile as she fell into step with him.
“Don’t be sad, Gabriel,” she started, glowing with hope next to him. “The lamb will find her way home again.” She smiled now, “And then we can rearrange Heaven for her again.”
“I’d gladly rearrange it several times over so long as she makes it here,” he replied as they strolled along the emerald path.
Comments
Would have liked more description of the gooey room/place that cant be risisted.