God Knows Even Angels Fall

2. To lose one parent… may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.

The first time it occurred to me was at my mother's funeral, when the priest talked about heaven and angels. How she could watch over us, and something about calling God's goodness inside. It was all a mess of words - I couldn't really concentrate, and Grandma was the religious one, not us. Maybe it was the grief talking, but somehow it stuck.

I asked the priest after, if there was something I should have done. If it was my fault, since I was the last one she talked to.

"It's not just about you," he said. "She in His hands now. Let it go."

17. Journalism is unreadable, and literature is not read.

The research was surprisingly easy - I'd already picked up Latin in junior high. The grimoires weren't exactly hard to track down, though some of them required some creative effort to access. I found most of them in university libraries. "Special collections," they called it. They had no idea, did they?

4. I have nothing to declare except my genius.

Actually getting it to work, well, that was something else. There was only so much I could do with the books, compare and contrast, pick up what seemed to repeat. Eventually I had to try something, and fail, and try again. This invocation, those symbols, that Enochian, the Hebrew, the Latin… It all blurred together after a while.

5. All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.

I started to think… I started to think I was going crazy. That kind of thing is genetic, after all, and I was the right age…

When I dreamed the patterns, I knew for certain I was.

16. Children begin by loving their parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.

The beings I dreamed weren't angels you'd recognize from Renaissance art. I couldn't have painted them even if I were and artist. But they explained what I needed to do. Things they said mirrored what I'd heard from my mother, the last time I talked to her, and I wondered what that meant.

3. In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.

I woke up feeling hungover, exhausted and sore. Getting up was hard; it felt like there was a weight holding me down on the bed. But I was hungry, too, so I rolled over to get out of bed.

It's amazing how fast you reach full wakefulness when you realize there's something attached to you that's not supposed to be there.

7. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearance.

I spent the better part of the morning just staring at myself in the mirror, turning, stretching. Checking that they responded to my thoughts, which they did, and getting a feel for how they moved. They were big enough to be awkward, but I figured too small to fly; I would be much too heavy, without a bird's hollow bones. They were brown and white, with hints of red, more like a songbird than the white-winged angels people pictured. At least they complimented my hair. I don't know what I would have done if they clashed.

I thought about getting dressed, looked at one of my t-shirts and then at the wings. Fuck, now what?

11. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.

I cut away the backs of most of my shirts, one at a time. I could hide the wings under a long coat with a little trouble, so I did that. It was cold enough that I could get away with coats virtually everywhere when I needed to leave the house. I stopped going to school, but that hardly seemed like it mattered much. What was the point, when there were bigger concerns?

One of my teachers called, leaving the number for a grief hotline? Grief? No. I missed my mother, but this was… I had to laugh. I had done it for her, maybe. But it wasn't grief. More like desperation.

13. Nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.

He had black hair that hung long, with a sheen like the milky way in the night sky, and I noticed his eyes first, dark too, and only then did I see his wings, black and iridescent like the starling. It was his eyes that held me, though.

"Hello. I thought there was something interesting going on up here."

He moved like a cat, silent and too graceful to be real.

15. When people agree with me, I always feel that I must be wrong.

The first thing she said to me was, "He was here first, wasn't he?" She had red hair, gold eyes, and wings like a falcon.

"He?" I had a pretty good idea who she meant, though.

"The Satan. Look, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. You have to understand, what happened to you… it's not supposed to happen. I've been authorized to offer you a miracle, remove them, and let you get back to your life."

"Remove them?" I sputtered. "Do you know how much work I put into this?"

"Shockingly little, all things considered. Some people spend their whole lives trying and never succeed." She huffed at me. "Should I take that as a no?"

"I don't even understand what they mean!"

"No," she agreed, "you don't understand."

"I can't just pretend it never happened."

She nodded. "I suppose I'll tell Him you said that. I'll be back. And don't make any deals in the meantime."

12. I can resist everything except temptation.

"She said you're the Satan."

He nodded, his eyes sparkling. "I am the light in the darkness, and I am the one who asks uncomfortable questions. Satan is one of my titles. Samael is another. There are quite a few."

"Are you trying to corrupt me or something?"

He snickered. "I'm just keeping an eye on you because you're interesting. I don't get a lot of opportunity for new these days."

20. I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex.

He reached out and touched one, brushing fingertips over the short, soft feathers near the top. I shuddered; I had no idea they could feel that good.

18. The only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.

"Do you regret falling?" I asked him, later, and felt him tense against me. Why did I say that?

"You don't have to answer," I said quickly.

He turned to face me. "I only regret that I thought He deserved my love so much."

8. Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others.

"What happened between Him and Satan?"

She laughed, her red hair bouncing. "Oh, what is that demon telling you now?"

"It sounded… almost like a bad breakup."

"Are you sure you aren't a fallen angel?" She shook her head, still snickering.

"I think I'd know if I was an angel. No, I'm just… in over my head. But I went into this looking for God. I'm not going to give up now."

"You should be careful, little fledgling. Such boldness may get you in trouble." Her mouth quirked into a smile. "I'll tell Him you're looking for Him."

10. Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.

She didn't come back. Neither did he.

It was so quiet, and so boring. If the wings weren't still there, I'd have thought I made it all up.

And then one night I dreamed of red hair and brown wings and screaming, and when I woke up, it was as if they'd never been there.

9. Questions are never indiscreet. Answers sometimes are.

My heart sank into my stomach, drowning in fear. Was that- was everything-

Was I following in my mother's footsteps after all?

I felt crazier now than I had when I was (imagining?) walking around with wings and talking to angels. I went to see the university, started the paperwork to get back into classes next semester. I called the grief support line, and talked about my mother. I even decided it was time to unfuck the house and began cleaning one room after another, top to bottom.

Dust first, then vacuum, just like my mother had taught me. I even pulled my bed away from the wall to get the dirt back behind it. I slid the vacuum in and almost immediately heard it choke on something. I turned it off and pulled it out, fishing into the brushes for whatever had gotten stuck.

It was a feather, bent almost beyond recognition. Black, with an iridescent sheen like a starling's.

I left the house angrier than I could ever remember being.

6. To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.

There was a crowd gathering below. They didn't know who I was, or what I was doing. They just saw a guy on a ledge.

I can't really have heard what they were yelling down there, but I thought it anyway. Jump. Jump!

I believed. More than that, I knew.

I wasn't going to jump. I was going to fly. I figured I'd meet God one way or the other.

14. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.

Everything went white, and I found my feet back under me, though I couldn't have said I was standing on something.

"I hear you've been looking for me, boy."

I jumped at his voice and felt my wings spread involuntarily. They were back? I turned, slowly.

It hurt my eyes to look at him. I saw humanity superimposed over him like an ill-fitting cloak, shivering and sliding out of place.

"The only reason you can look at all is because you aren't all human anymore."

I didn't want to hear that, not really. But I'd started this, and now I had to finish it, didn't I?

19. Anybody can make history. Only a great man can write it.

"You took them."

"Technically, one of my angels did. But you're correct that she did it on my order."

"Why?"

He looked sad. "You can't be in-between. It makes everything else weak, and it effects other people. It's not just about you."

I stared at him.

"Since you made it this far, you can choose. Would you be human, with your free will? Or would you serve me?"

But I had already made my choice.

1. A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?

I couldn't make him appear. It's not in his nature to come when called. But I was sure word would get around to Samael, and in the meantime, there was plenty of world to keep a fallen angel busy.