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April 17, 2018

Onlooker

photo by by Thomas Hawk
Fiction: Onlooker

The angel sits and watches the humans come and go. Always, she have a small inkings of future dreams but none of them lingered long. She has been at this graveyard for quite some years watching the humans. They amuses her with their sobs and speeches and even sometimes touches her enough to almost make her shed tears. But never have any of them make her feel that heart aching rapture that she often heard is what makes human life so poignant.

A while back, the angel had laughed at a gargoyle when he fell and the tip of his nose broke off. She wasn't meant to be seen but the gargoyle caught her wings and pulled her down. She begged for his mercy but he had no heart. He was made of stone. The most terrible grin full of pointed teeth came upon his face. His dead black eyes sparkled. He picked her up and placed her on top of the largest grave stone. Then he flew away with his laughter echoing in the quiet air. She thought it was over. But as she leaned her elbow on her thigh, turned her head to rest on her palm and let out a sigh, a shiver ran all over her body. When she tried to flap her wings, she found she could not. She tried to move her arms and legs but it was hopeless. She had turned to stone. It was a terrible price to pay for such a small laugh. From that day on, she had never laughed again. She just sat and watched the world.

Today, there is a gathering for an old woman. Her family and there are a lot of them, surrounded her casket. But none of them felt any true despair, at least, none toward the old woman. The angel speculates that someone had poisoned the old woman but it is hard to decide which one of her family member is more deceitful as all of them seem rather haughty and snobbish. The old woman is dropped into the ground and everyone left.

But as the angel turns away, though she could only look down a little, she hears a sob. The little boy sits on the grassy ground crying big soppy tears and yet, the angel knows his tears are one of true heartache. At first it only peaks her interest but then as the sobbing continues, a sharp ache pierce her chest. She doesn't know what it is and yet, she is sure it is something human. The little boy is carried away and the angel wishes he would stay a bit longer. A small crack have began at the base of the angel's stone feet but she haven't noticed. She is pondering what makes the boy cry such aching tears.

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