Undeified Angel

It's a funny thing these wings


I thought that being above everyone else would make me happy

I pictured flapping my wings, soaring above the clouds. The little ants tip towing along below. But that didn't really do it for me.

Then I wondered if maybe I needed to produce things for joy. I hoped tinkering along on a side project might make me happy.

But as I watched the people outside as I tore my lab apart making changes here and there to make my creation perfect, I realized that in my solitude I had groan angry and hateful.

I needed to leave.

I used my wings to fly to a new planet. One in which I could make a world that would bend to my will.

When I found out that the sun had imploded I didn't cry. Why would I cry for such minor creatures?

But now, in my solitude, as I finish the last touches on my fish. As the lizards' eyes have been perfected. All the work is done, I can leave my little terrarium and simply soar above and observe... now... now I weep.