Ah, I remember you.
With your curly ringlets, angelic darkened hair, your deep pooled eyes which I fell into, how I stopped and stared. You were there waiting for me, so it seemed, sitting outside the cafe, wearing special gemstone rings – onyx, and a brown sparkly stone for good fortune – which at the time greatly appealed to me. Gemstones, their meanings and usages were important back then to me. During times of mental illness, I clung to anything that might or could heal me.
I knew inherently that we were meant to meet, it was as though you were a traveller coming upon my grounds, to search me out, to feel my heart pound. Or was there another intent?
You humoured me as I babbled about your gemstones, you listened somewhat attentively to my poems, but it was at this moment I felt a personal affront, because you uttered words of quiet insult. “Is that it?” you said to me. Like my work, my piece, was not enough in itself. Still, there I remained, lapping up the company, the invalidating attentions that this apparent-angel was providing. Looks can be deceiving.
Then there came the time to leave, we both instinctively stood at the same time. We automatically shook hands, as though I’d made a deal with the devil, rather than with something of pureness, like an angel with his surrounding light. “See you soon,” we both said ominously, as if a warning, a premonition for something frightening.
But the truth of the matter is, I never saw this angel again. I suspect he had been sent for a purpose, but I won’t go any further into this. Allow me to say though, that I was likely not viewed as a potential risk to whomever was behind the assessment. The puppet master behind the scenes.
© 2019 Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.