Saturday, January 3, 1998

No Angels Stand Guard

At long last twilight fell, and the blinding light was taken from his proud eyes. An excavation had begun in his soul, and sorely unprepared was he. A lifetime spent staring at the sun left no thought for the shadow inevitably trailing behind.

The night rushed in upon him; his spectacles were stripped, and he was made to look into the pit, the belly of his beast. It was not a rose he found there as he had expected, but a knife, jagged and infected, the same knife he had grasped and wielded all his life while staring at the sun.

At the gates of heaven and hell no angels stand guard, no watch is kept. Staring at that blade he fled with the scuttle of an insect to meet his brimstone.

- Mike Wood

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