When the Angels came down, no one was watching. Beaming down in the soundcheck, it was timed so very badly. Their song reverberated around the concert hall, as full of hope and truth as the seats were empty and earless.
Only the janitor saw. Only the janitor heard.
He never told a soul. Who would ever believe him? He wasn’t sure he believed it himself, really. It felt like the strangest hallucination.
On his deathbed he sang the song. Only the priest heard.
It was her they put away for madness.
And that is why you should always plan ahead.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
Nice story James.
ReplyDeleteNicely done!
ReplyDeleteRonda