Empathy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
God's greatest gift is immaterial, and oft forgotten.

Submitted: August 07, 2015

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Submitted: August 07, 2015

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"Look, Gabe," Mike told his friend, and nodded his head slightly, directing his companion's attention across the diner, to another booth.

In a booth against the far wall, a middle-aged man and woman were arguing over who was right and wrong about being pedantic over a grammatical error on the menu.

"English majors," Gabe said, after glancing over his shoulder. "I didn't know astrological Leos became English majors," he said to Mike, stabbing into his plate. "I always thought they were bankers and CEOs. You know--" He thrust a bite into his mouth. "Mmm, good Go--Devil damned! That is the best mortal chow ever!"

Both were enjoying beef nachos coated in white cheddar; the small diner's attempt at Mexican. Though, both owners and the cooks were as white as the cheese.

"Shh," Mike said, but refrained from the tell-tale of raising his finger to his lips. "They'll think you're crazy."

The man and woman at the far table were still arguing over where or not that comma went there in the menu or not.

"What? Me?" Gabe asked, smiling. "I could tell them I'm an angel, at this point, come down from Heaven to check this business' chow, and it would be no less crazier to them." He stabbed and devoured another bite. "MmmMMM! Heavenly!"

Michael sighed. "Now I'm pretty sure that was blasphemy," he said.

"If this is blasphemy," Gabriel said while chewing, "then I kinda understand why Satan fell, and Adam and Eve ate that fruit." He swallowed. "Oh Man! This isn't even authentic!" He abruptly leaned across the table. "Take me to a real Mexican joint, Mikey! Please! I would bring about Revelations for a really real taco grande!"

Michael waved the other angel down. "Down, Gabe," he said. "In eternal time, I promise."

Gabriel plucked the dessert menu out of the salt and pepper rack, browsing the selections. "Let's see..." he mused. "Ooh! Oooh! Mike!" He flipped the menu around, for Michael to see. "Heaven's Best Cheesecake!" Gabriel read. "Must! Muuust!"

One of the human pair muttered, "Irregardless," and the argument only grew worse.

Michael sighed. "Fine," he relented. "Get your cheesecake ordered." The angel, right arm of God, stood out of his booth seat.

"Wait, what," Gabriel looked up, one arm still raised for the waiter. "You serious?" he asked Michael. "They're humans. They disagree. It's very mortal." He waved his hand. "Waiter! Man, how do humans put up with such terrible service? No wonder this mortal plane sucks so bad."

"Make sure to get to-go boxes," Michael told Gabriel. "We need to move onward with The Mission."

"Semantics," huffed the woman..

"I'll be right back," Michael said, and took long, graceful strides to the couple's booth.

"Excuse me," the angel said politely to the couple. When the two stopped arguing to look up, Michael smiled his best, most angelic smile.

"Uh, hello?" the woman asked Michael.

The man just stared.

"I'm sorry," Michael said to the two humans. "I do not mean to intrude. I just felt like saying how beautiful it is that you care about another to wish to see each other do their best, even in grammar."

"Oh," the woman said. "I..." She looked across the table, at the man. "I'm sorry," she told her companion. "It's just a comma. I wanted this to be a nice meal, and now I feel bad for making you feel bad."

"Yeah," the man said. "I'm sorry about arguing over a stupid comma. It doesn't matter, compared to this night. This is our anniversary. Let's enjoy it together, at least this night."

The woman nodded. "Thank you," she said to her husband, then turned to face Michael, who was no longer there.

Outside, Michael fed the buzzards with scraps of bread from the tables. "Even you deserve kindness," the angel said of the scavengers. "I am sorry God made you so ugly. You are beautiful in your own way and means, to me."

Gabriel came out with two to-go boxes in hand. "Mike?" the other angel called. "People gonna think you crazy for that."

"It's all relative," Michael replied, then turned back to Gabriel. "Let's go. There is much good to do here--The Mission--and so little time in the goodness of God's daylight."


© Copyright 2019 Jack Motley. All rights reserved.

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