Wednesdays Angel

On Wednesday I met an angel. Well, the friend of an angel. Well, not really a friend either, more of an Agent. Not a Literary Agent or, God forbid an Estate Agent, or even a Special Agent, although that would have been cool.

Anyway, the agent looked normal enough. No sprouting feathers or golden halo. Although, when she sat in the bay window the winter sun breathed on her head and shoulders, just like a halo.

Halo’s aside, we started off with a chat, well it was more of a series of unconnected conversations - topics ranging from my recent marital demise to the meaning of life and her well-fed cats.

Two hours tried on 10 minutes for size and liked the fit. I felt like I’d come home to mum’s hug and a mug of something hot and spicy, after wandering the cold streets wearing someone else’s ill-fitting Summer clothes.

She suggested we start and positioned a dining chair in the middle of the lounge like a mobile hairdresser. She told me to relax and place both hands on my knees in the ‘back-to-school’ pose

She moved round behind me. I closed my eyes. I’d recently seen ‘Sweeney Todd’ and swallowed hard. She placed her hands on my shoulders with a light, lovers touch. Sensuality and trust becoming one, and after a few moments she moved alongside me. I sensed one flat trembling palm close to my heart like a kind scanner.

The heart is a fragile organ. Don’t believe all that bullshit about gallons of blood and a billion beats. The heart can break as easy as a butterfly’s wing, unless the hand that holds it isn’t human.

Next, the turn of my belly, and crotch. Oh, I forgot to say there was a brief ‘before’ bit as well.  With the aid of a tear-drop crystal suspended from a fine chain she concluded my Chakra’s were not so much blocked as impacted - (nursey) joke.

I digress. With eyes tightly closed slight dizziness took over. The way you do when you look over the side of a high bridge or multi-storey car park. I snatched my mind back just in time. Then, there was this feeling. Not quite holding, more like slow juggling as though I was being passed from one huge hand to another.

Behind my eyelids it was November the fifth. Pink tourmaline circles of light

pulsed before me, followed by red and gold. I didn’t want it to end.

Heat followed. Dad told me to “get away from the fire!” But I still singed my fingertips. Next, a building nervous excitement like when we take our clothes off for the very first time in front of someone we love hoping they won’t giggle at that large dark mole creeping up our back.

I opened my eyes and the rainbow vanished in a slightly altered, better connected world.