Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

by the horribly abbreviated feathers at the angel's back. Long strands of dark hair fluttered around his face but never hid the angel's piercing stare. George dropped his gaze, but looking down was a mistake. Dark debris pierced the whitecaps on the heaving surface below.
    "So worried about being a man." The angel's laugh was low.
    The taunt moved his feet easier than any force could have. With each halting step, the metal under his soles vibrated, sending tremors up his legs to weaken his knees.
    George's certainty that he was walking to his death grew with each step.
    Images danced inside his skull. Him and Oliver, drunkenly arm-in-arm, belting out the chorus to Stand By Me as they stumbled to their dorm after some long-ago frat party. Their drunken kiss as the song ended. Their first. Adam's grin as he swung the bat and connected for his first hit in a Little League game. Connie, her lips moving as she repeated her wedding vows behind a veil he hadn't yet lifted. His father, grinning as he waved a dismissive hand. Enough about your frat brother, tell me about that cute Biology major. Connie again, her eyes red and swollen, demanding, Is it true George? Are you gay? You've cheated on me with other men ? His chest ached as if he could still feel her blows. Oliver, leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, every line of his body radiating hurt.
    When George blinked the blurred images away, he realized he was standing before Sephrim, close enough to touch him. Intent golden eyes burned into his. "Who are you?" His whisper seemed to wash over the dam, but the angel responded.
    "You know my name."
    He'd come for answers, not to watch a movie of his failures. "Are you a guardian?"
    The angel shook his head. "Not any more, George. I gave that up for love."
    The wind tore at his clothing, and horrible screeching sounds made by metal rubbing against metal drove his pulse higher. "You said you needed my help."
    The angel's laughter was musical, deep and rich. "You're a sucker for that line. You're here to help yourself, George."
    A new scene materialized inside George's head. He was almost used to the way Sephrim used his skull as a cinema screen. Sephrim, being carried by the soldier, the tips of his wings discarded on the ground behind them as they moved slowly away. Overhead, Erasmus's long, perfect plumage beat the sky, sending clouds scuttling in the wake of his obvious fury. Sephrim looked up, and though blood still ran from his wounded wings, they halted. Tenderly, the soldier pressed his lips to Sephrim's and with a loud roar, Erasmus flew so high, George could no longer see him. Still Sephrim and the soldier kissed.
    The wind died down.
    "Erasmus cut your wings because you fell in love with another man?" George's heart sank, but he felt he already knew the answer.
    Sephrim frowned, shaking his head. "He clipped my wings because I asked him to."
    "But, I saw you two fighting," George protested.
    The angel shrugged, the vestiges of his wings bouncing gently. "Erasmus tested me, to see if my will was strong. This is an imperfect art, communicating with my charges. I had to tap into something to get your attention." His smile became sly, and his golden eyes darkened. "My, you do like to get the whole story, don't you, George?"
    George refrained from mentioning he'd damn near killed him with second-hand pain. "So, it's okay that you loved another man?"
    The smile on the angel's face broadened. He put his hand over George's heart. "Why ask what you already know?" Sephrim closed his eyes, but his useless wings continued to wave. George's vision went dark, but the angel's voice became melodic and soothing, for the first time since stepping out on the bridge, he wasn't afraid. "Adam. Connie. Oliver. Your parents. All live right here. How can that be wrong, George? You love each in a different way, but love is love, isn't it? Love is the greatest of all things. It was worth my wings to feel love."
    Blindly, George reached out but touched nothing. "One more question. What's this got to do with Lucien?"
    "Nothing. Except his mind saw things differently, like yours does sometimes, but for different reasons. He saw me; you can see me. Most people don't."
    George's vision cleared, and behind Sephrim, he saw another man. For just an instant, he thought he saw a torn and bloody uniform, but he blinked and then the man wore nothing. Unlike Sephrim, the soldier had no wings. When he turned his gaze back to Sephrim, the angel's