"Thomas E. Sniegoski - Aerie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

He reached for the box flaps that hid the artifacts of his past and pried them apart, the scarsupon his
shoulder blades screaming for hisattention.

"But we would be together again,"the whisperfrom within the box cajoled."As we are meant to be."

Alastor had wrapped them in sheets of plastic to protect them from the dampness. Hegasped as he
always did when he looked uponthem, never fully remembering the extent of hissacrifice. He started to
close up the box, not wanting to be reminded.

"Look at me,"the voice within the boxdemanded.

"I have looked," he responded slowly. "And as usual, I am filled with an overwhelming sadness."

"Unwrap us,"it ordered."Look upon us andremember."

Alastor found himself doing as the voicerequested, pulling back the plastic wrap toexpose the box's
contents. He remembered thepainтАФthe decision, as well as the act itselfтАФtosever from his body the final
remnant of whatseparated him from the monkeys.

To be human, they had to be cut off.

Alastor mournfully gazed upon his severedwings. He had reasoned that without them, itwould be easier
to assume the human role, andit had most certainly helped, but that was before they began to speak to
him.

With a trembling hand, the fallen angel gentlystroked the downy soft surface of the wings anda faint smell
of decay wafted up from them. He knew that it was impossible for the appendagesto actually
communicate with him, and definedthe oddity as fallout from his attempt at beinghuman. He had seen talk
shows about situationsjust like this. The experts would say that he wasdelusional. Alastor smiled. To be
human andinsane; he had achieved far more success than heever imagined.

"Put us on,"the wings whispered seductively."Shed the grotesque shell that adorns you andwear us
again."

Alastor began to close the wrappings.

"What are you doing?"they asked, panic intheir sound.

"I have done as you asked," he responded tohis psychosis, continuing to place the sheets of plastic over
the severed limbs of flight. "I can dono more than that."

"Please,"the wings begged as he began toclose the box.

His body wracked with guilt, Alastor ignoredthe plaintive cries. "I'm sorry," he managed.

The angel secured the box and steppedquickly back, listening for the sounds of protest that did not
come.Perhaps they are honoringtheir bargain after all.He turned from the table,longing for the comfort
of his chair, the television, and a large slice of pie. He smiled.It's oddhow much better things always are
with pie.