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She didn’t bring him there on purpose. She didn’t want to annoy me. Stop being angry at her, Neville. He was the prick that showed up. You know him. Shagging every girl that is naive enough to listen to anything he says.

I rush down the street. I thought moving from Halifax would give me a chance to start out fresh, not get mixed with him and his filthy ways.

Botanical Gardens. The best place to sort myself out.

The sun is out and I’m grateful. At least that can pop a smile on my face.

Come on, Neville lad, girls never had this sort of effect on you. Why should this one have? Especially if she mixes with Hannay. Bollocks. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. Double bollocks!

It’s okay. Open up the little neat bottle. Pop a pill in my mouth. Swallow. It’s falling. Down, down, down it goes. Down my dry throat, down, down. I take a sup of whisky out of a flask – old fashioned, cliché, I know. That’s better. Much better. Better...

I don’t know how much time has passed but the sun is winding down and I’m not even planning on leaving. Too comfortable. Far too comfortable...


I turn around in the wrong direction. Far too slowly. Then, discovering my mistake, I turn back round in the direction of the voice.

“Neville? What was that all about?”

It’s troubled. The voice is troubled. But it’s so smooth. Like a honey stream. I can almost feel the sounds flow down my skin, caress me, soothe me.

I look up in the direction of the voice. What a face. How majestic. How strange. How fantastically alienated. The face is troubled. Not just by anything to do with me. By many things. Many things I feel I will never find out about. It’s lovely. The creature is lovely. Cascades of copper over a perfectly round face. Like a moon.


“What? Nev, are you alright?”

The little quavers in the voice vibrate through the catacombs inside my head. It’s a divine massage. And the eyes? I never noticed. How silly of me. Green. Green as the sea. Unoriginal description, but what can I say? It’s the only way to describe the true beauty. They’re so deep. How deep...I could drown in them. I feel like I’m drowning now. What a strange creature.

“What is your name?” I ask absent-mindedly.


What? That can’t be right. I wait. It might be a technique it uses to build up excitement in its prey.

“You know my name. Jill?”

Is that a question? Jill...what can that mean? Why sit here guessing when I can ask?

“What can that mean?”

It approaches. Closer, closer. It’s so close I could reach out and kiss its face to see what it’s like. What is it?

Suddenly, its lips touch mine. For the briefest of moments but I’ll keep it with me forever. I’ll try. It pulls away. So brief, so lovely. A golden jewel is moving down from its eye. It’s like molten gold. The creature’s eyes are filled with many of them. Little jewels. Little molten jewels. So light, so bright, so strange. Are they tears? The tears of an angel. I reach out. It doesn’t move away. I take that as a good sign. My finger touches its cheek, touches the jewel. The angel doesn’t move. I’ve got it on my side. It trusts me. It trusts me with its treasure. I balance the golden jewel on my index finger. Carefully I move it closer to my own face. What is it? I taste it. It’s salty. A tear? I was right. It’s a tear. I move closer to the angel’s face and kiss it. Kiss its lips, eyes, neck. It doesn’t move away but it doesn’t move closer either.

Instead, it moves its hand towards my pocket and reaches in. It comes back out again with the little bottle of pills and opens it. It swallows a couple and passes me one more. It takes my flask and downs a gulp or two. I’m impressed. How did she know about it? About the pills? About the drink? It feels familiar. The touch of its hand, its kiss. I know it. I’ve seen it before. Jill? What did that question mean? Jill? Jill? Take away the question mark. Jill. Jill. Jill, Jill, Jill...Jill.


It nods. It takes me by the hand. I like that. It feels good. It feels familiar. I trust its touch.


Rolling in the covers. In them, under them, over them. We are in love. How did this happen? An angel was sent to me and three days later I feel like I’ve been with her for eternity.

After making love, we lie down on our backs, quiet as mice. Why are we quiet? I don’t mind. We might be quiet in the sense that we’re not talking but our heavy breathing speaks for us.

Submitted: October 21, 2011

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