A Child

“Don’t look so nervous; it’s very un-becoming…”

You look up from the corduroy vest you had been fidgeting to view your accuser. The small, winged woman begins to smile warmly. Though her dull, foggy gray eyes could see no light, she obviously she had seen through other means your anxiousness. Ignoring her for the moment, you twist around to inspect your own set of wings, confirming that their snow-white color was still maintained. The woman snickers cutely, “Oh my, we really are worried, aren’t we?”

After a long pause you finally reply, “Well, yes, the precedence for this can be quite troubling.” She beams brightly back at you with a stony gaze and coos, “If it were to happen, certainly it would have happened several months ago, don’t you think?”

You sigh heavily, “Your exacting documentation can be most infuriating at times.” You move up to a small window of your study to view the clouds cast shadows on the windy plains beyond. She perks up suddenly, her ivory wings unfurling slightly as if she were about to leap from her rustic chair. Seconds later from behind the door you hear the faint cries you had been so eagerly awaiting. They are the cries of a first breath; of a new life. The percolating emotions you had felt this last year are all at once released – you reach the epiphany you had been seeking for centuries. This is what your god must have felt at the world’s start, what he felt as he gave breath to you and all your kind.

To Be Continued