Short Story : The Philanthropist

Gordon opens his eyes. He hardly could. He didn't need his eyes. His true repertoire of devices have suddenly apparent and available to him. Everything have now become clear to him inspite of folded eye lids.

Sobs can be heard. Without looking yet knowing, the world he have created in his inner and outer circles directly and indirectly have all arrived. The cars are lined up. The corridors are full. Friends and strangers alike.

"Father, this is Gordon." comes a voice of a familiar yet now not so.
"Erh... so i see..." came the reply of a much aged and weak murmur.

The priest surveys what he sees before approaching the bed side. Flabbergasted and dumbfounded, he was wondering what great honour he had of seeing this man off. Or should he say luck as would any other ordinary man would go. He resisted the temptation to let his thoughts drift to such heights of self-glorification through having this opportunity. In the old days of the Vatican they'd have called it, "A chance to buy penance." As any non-naive man should know, priest are still humans. "This", Father Xavier thought, "is not my chance to right my wrongs nor in future provide others with "free penance" becuase of this experience, but to provide a weary soul with a chance for providence and reconciliation. Especially if the one i am going to provide of such to, is one greater than I, and from above. Lord I thank thee."

For before him and only to Father Xavier's eyes lies a creature, humanoid in appearance; weary and skinny its bones; long and blue and old with its still untarnished sheen in its hair; and old strong yet enlightened its face; and last of all, at the torso's sides, great celestial wings of such remarkable grandeur and a light flows from them as would only Heaven would permit.

"You're not Gordon the philathropist, you're Michael."

MonkeyDog at 4:44 PM