Personification of the Dream

Personification of the Dream

                Angels can live
forever, we are strong and we are vigilant, and we all have jobs to do. From
the start of our lives we are provided an endless list of tasks to perform with
the purpose of helping guide the world in more favorable directions. Most
everywhere there is a miracle or a bit of luck or even just a mystery, there is
a good chance we have contributed. Though the same applies to the other side of
the spectrum, many of the worlds tragedies have also been directly caused by
angels on the orders of our boss. Some angels are born with the urge to help,
and others with the urge to hinder humanity, jobs are assigned accordingly. I
for one had always been a helper, and I liked it, but there are only so many
centuries that you can do one given thing without getting bored. I could no
longer be content with serving the purpose for eternity, and I had found a
loophole. There was a way out, and I was taking it.

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                With a whoosh and
a flutter of feathers I landed on the brick flood of an alley. I had made the
deal and was now free for however long I chose to stay that way. At one end of
the alley I could see the bright light of the sun and trees around a small
park, on the other I saw shadows and heard a soft trickle of water. Down the
shadowy way there were only old buildings, left untouched by time and un-kept
by the world. I was almost sure that not a living human had gone that way in
centuries, and I was right. And that was the way I went. Walking down the
narrow path I smelled the scent of mildew and old waft out toward me, gently
pulling my clothes back toward the way that I had gone, a silent warning that I
would not heed. I was not an ignorant explorer, no, I had a purpose in my
actions and would pursue them till the end. Since my creation I had felt the
weight of all my dreams and hopes slowly building up, and at that moment I had
the chance to safely stow them away and remove their burden from my heart while
simultaneously maintaining the drive for life that they provided me. Were the
walls that reached up around me met the ground below my feet the rain from
weeks ago still sat comfortably in the noon day shadows. The walls held no
windows and the sky would not show me any clouds. Then suddenly I stopped. In
front of me I could see The Courtyard of The Dancing Prayers. It was
completely surrounded by buildings and had three exits including the one I had entered
through. The ground was dirt within the square and alone in the center was a
fountain of greened stone, still running though forgotten.

                The children were
the fountain, or rather the fountain was made of children, short and cold,
though they didn't seem notice it. They were the green of the stone and water
dripper down their tiny, unmoving faces. They smiled at me as I walked around
them. Above their heads water flowed over the rim of a tarnished metal basin they
carried. Although pigeons swam at their feet the three boys seemed to dance
without a care yet never moved an inch.  The pool at the base of their bare
feet shimmered with wishes riding upon the backs of tiny, metal disks. I could
feel the eyes of the kids follow me as I passed around them again and  knew
that the riches were being closely guarded. Each one had been carefully placed
under watchful gazes to assure the prayers tied to them were heard. Around me
stood four tall soldiers that stood at attention, ready to move in if I dared
cross the eternally young, green guardians. Each soldier wore a brick facade
dotted with glass embellishments through which I thought I glimpsed the souls
of others flicker into view then disappear. Each had likely been devoured
through white trimmed jaws and a pair of baby blue doors. Moving cautiously I
approached the ornate fountain and it's children. Beneath my feet moss sprouted
on the moist soil. Moving swiftly I produces a small gold coin and mentally
tied my dreams to it before tossing it into the at the children's feet. Once I
had seen the metal messenger land in the clear, old water I retreated back. I
left through a way different from that which I had come, between other brick
soldiers, and did my best to forget about the faces that lurked through the
glass on their flanks.

                I slowed only
once my view was clear of brick walls and I no longer felt the lingering eyes
of those who had been lost within the three story warriors that they call home.
Guardedly I turned to face the square that I had left, not a one carefree dream
guardian had even glanced up to watch me go. As I stood resting I felt my chest
grow lighter and knew that since I had left my longings nestled safely in the
shadows of numerous protectors, they were no longer mine to worry about. Behind
me waves broke on rough grey sand and cooled the salty breeze. Relaxing, I let
my great black wings unfurl, every feather reflecting stray ribbons of light.
The walk I was on was a long grey snake, ten feet wide, stretching along the
coast four or so miles in each direction before meeting with black tarmac roads.
Before the concrete serpent ended to my left an assembly of lights fought the
encroaching dusk at its seaward side and snatched at my gaze. It was a carnival
of voices and color balanced precariously on the edge of a dock. A giant wheel
spun around anti-clockwise as though to unwind time and provided the people in
its birdcage baskets a perfect view of the momentary green flash that shot
across the horizon, dividing water and sky. Furling my feathered appendages back
against my shoulder blades and spine I turned and made the oasis of senses into
my new destination.

                Orange clouds had
faded to grey-blue, then black. Shadows had stretched from the bottoms of the
brick clad sentinels all the way to the sea before the darkness came to meet
them. Every yard or so a light shone down and illuminated one-thousand moths
dancing in the humid nine-o-clock. I took my time wandering through the tainted
dark and, once at my destination, was greeted by an ornate, arched gate. Its
doors were swung wide and "Le Carnaval de Rêves " was scrawled across
its top. I glanced back at the peaceful walk then plunged into a world of
voices, music, and flashing lights. There were stalls lit up with promises of throwing
games and magic shows. I was content to walk among the throngs of exited
children, and worried mothers, happy couples, and drunken strangers till the
pointed roof of a rounded stable caught my attention. I pushed past a stall
full of roasted almonds and kettle corn to stand in front of a carousel full of
the most gorgeous horses in had ever seen. They had coats of gold and brown,
the purist white and the darkest black (that would have rivaled even that of my
wings). I had no choice as I stepped over discarded cigarettes and beer bottles
toward the line of people waiting to mount one of the fine steeds, I simply had
to get closer to the fine creature.

                Several minutes
later I was climbing onto a golden stallion and grasping the red and white pole
that kept him in his place. Music screeched to life from speakers above my head
as the herd began to move, jostling their passengers, and as the pace picked up
we rose from the ground only to be lowered again with a rhythmic timing that
matched the music. Both continued to speed up and suddenly I could not see the
other riders, it seemed my ride could tell that I was different and had decided
to make a note of it.

                The steed snorted
loudly with mischief and anger, kicking at the ground with all its force,
trying to throw me. The gentle trot it had been going at was now a violent gallop
and as the steed reared up and swung his head the pole vanished from its back and
with nothing to hold on to in time I plummeted to the ground. When I opened my
eyes the carousel was in front of me, it's passengers still in tow, minus me,
and I was surrounded by worried onlookers. From their confused murmurs I could
tell that nothing had looked amiss to them, other than me falling to the ground.
The Mares and Stallions continued on their set rout and each looked down at me as
they passed and seemed to grin at my demise, hiding the small twitches of their
living flesh in shadows and ignorance. Only those who are a part of the world
hidden in the world could know that they live, yet I had been as oblivious to
their hatred of me as the people around me were of the horses beating hearts. I
wondered if it was all winged creatures that they disliked or only those who
had forsaken the sky. It did not matter, it was the smartest thing I could do
to murmur lies at a few questions and weave my way away from the horses and out
of the carnival.

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                I did not know
where I was going. My head was lost in thoughts of all that I had seen and
learned that day, till my attention was finally drawn back to the waking world
by a crashing sound behind me. From over my shoulder I saw  a thin black cat
dart back into the shadows of the fourth story balcony, no doubt he was the
culprit. On the ground lay shards of terra-cotta, dirt and the shredded
remnants of a bloomless plant. Most of the dirt had turned to mud in the rain
that I had failed to notice and as me eyes drifted around I found myself in an
old alley with only one street lamp at each end of it that barley managed to
hold the darkness away. Apartments rose to each side of me and matched with the
brick walk beneath me feet. Everyone around me was deep asleep and hadn't
stirred at the noise that in its absence had left only the patter of water
droplets hitting stone and flowing through metal drains far above. I continued walking
and now aware of my surroundings was kept alert be the occasional cracks of
lightning and flashes of thunder. Since I was already soaked I made no effort
to find shelter from the rain, It would be the least of my worries that night.

                It was a dark
night and a night of beasts, as is every night within two (or sometimes three)
nights around that of the new moon. Unfortunately I had been absentminded
enough to go walking under the moonless sky and now I would have to scour the
shadows before every turn I made until I found a hotel that would admit a
soaked and dirty, disheveled man, though I suppose my appearance would matter
little to them as soon as they found that I could pay.

                Winding around
through endless turns and doubling back at more than a fair number of dead
ends, I quickly discovered just how hopelessly lost I had become. Always
looking to the skies for the shadow shapes of gargoyles (straight from the Notre
Dame most likely) who may happen to consider me an easy meal, I didn't notice
the black smudge that followed silently behind me until I had walked along at
least five blocks worth of dark and lonely alleys. In fact, I didn't even notice
the smudge of an emaciated black cat until it darted, hissing, into my path. At
least it looked like a cat, the second it turned its bony face in my direction I
glimpsed ray of light hit its eyes I realized it was something much worse,
simply hiding in a guise. Around it's pupils there was no reflective green or
white, only an intense, dark red, like blackberry juice of dried blood. I
tensed myself for a fight, wondering how much worse my day could possibly get,
then realized that the "cat" had already turned away from me and was
running away with a ridge of hair raised along its back. Something had scared
him, and before I could think to join it in his retreat a winged shadow was
upon me. Unfortunately, the attackers were such that I wished the possessed cat
had been the whole of my worries, the shadow swooping down upon me was a
gargoyle; actually, it was a flock of gargoyles. Since gargoyles are actually
quite small and a one on its own would not be enough to kill a man (let alone an
angel) they chose to hunt in swarms. At the moment there appeared to be ten of
fifteen of them coming at me and/or already tearing at my skin and clothing,
avoiding my wings for the most part. They all had rough grey skin, razor-like
teeth, and claws thought in all other senses their appearances were as varied
as could be, size, shape, strength, etc... I was able to tear a few of them
away with a free swing of an arm but was too weighed down throw them away with
force enough to kill them. Every time I managed to dislodge a small cluster of
them, the ones I had thrown off earlier would flock in to replace them. I don't
think I would have made it had I been alone but, thank irony, the cat had snuck
back and was at that moment flinging  itself, screeching, from a nearby balcony
toward the beasts and easily tore seven or eight of them away from me, allowing
me ample room to take care of those who remained and slip away before my savior
had time to finish eating his share of the gargoyles and come looking for me
again.

                The sun had just
started to rise and was barely visible above the roofs of some of the shorter
buildings by the time I had reached a hotel and for a moment I questioned
whether I even needed it but the long day (and night) had left me exhausted and
I dashed to my room the second I was done checking in. A heavy weight pulled by
eyelids shut almost before I had time to collapse on the puffy hotel bed and
then I slept. My sleep was deep and I can remember no dreams, just a
persistent, restful blackness.

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                By the time I
awoke it was almost dark again and the shadows of adjacent buildings were
already creeping in through me wide open window. The beasts would be out again
soon but I was hungry and defiantly wasn't going to sit around the hotel till
the sun came up, so I decided it was as good a day as any to swing by HELL.
I do not mean to say I wanted to hang out in the real deal, I only meant the
club. After all, everyone knows that HELL is where all the angels hang
out, and at least I wouldn't be alone, even if not everyone was fond of my
"prolonged absence". I had to take a number of long train rides to get
to Paris then I was still left with an impressive walk that took me nearly an
hour. The trip was uneventful but once at the club things got very interesting.

                HELL is
not much larger than a subway station and it hidden somewhere deep within Paris
through ten dark alleys, nine long, grey roads, and three abandoned parks in a
place only angles and other such secretive creatures  know about. It had taken
me a while to get there but I almost changed my mind about entering once I had reached
the iron door, the last time I saw any of the other angels I had been saying
goodbye and hadn't thought much about what would happen if I ever saw them
again, until now, yet something spurred me on and before I knew it I was
covered in neon flashing light. There was no bumper at the door, if you weren't
meant to be here you wouldn't be here. Music was pulsing loudly out of speakers
in the corners of the room, it was at least twice the size of the building I
had entered through the thick iron door behind me. Around me angles danced in
forms ranging from those of tramps to the starched bodies of politicians, grimy
plumbers, and pop stars. They were the best of the best and the worst of the
worst, and everyone knows angles are extremists. We are the wonderful saints
and the merciless demons though a lesser known fact is that most of us are only
doing our jobs and after a long century of work we need to relax just like
anybody else, and that's why we made HELL. Now the thing about working,
is that I don't want to do it anymore, so that's why I'm unpopular. I traded my
right to fly for the right to hang about earth doing whatever I please, though if
I were to take to the sky under my own power for just a second, I would be
right back in under the command of the boss.

                I was
surrounded and there was no backing out, not once I had been spotted. She was
my old partner when I had been asked to pose for a painting by Jean-Baptiste
Pater in the early 1700's, god known's why the boss wanted us there, but the
second I saw her she scared the crap out of me. She was six feet tall and
gorgeous with dark blond hair and piercing eyes, the kind of women that carried
around that "don't mess with me, don't even make a joke in the same room
as me" air, and people rarely did. Unfortunately for me it appeared that
she had something to say to me and there was nowhere to hide, if I was lucky I
would be able to grab a drink before she started the barrage, because I
sincerely doubted that she  just wanted to catch up and reminisce. I was
halfway to the bar when she caught up with me. "Hey, It's greatly impolite
to run from an old friend, Damien".

                "It's been
awhile, am I in trouble"?

                "Right to
the point, and it's seems you did not need my warning"

                "I'm well
aware that my choices are not looked kindly upon by many, though if there's
something I should know please tell me"

                "You might
want that drink first, life threatening danger is often upsetting,"

                "I never
thought that you'd be offering me a drink, I don't think this is something a
should pass up" I replied to her cockily, momentarily forgetting the no
jokes around the scary woman rule, and earning a fierce glare. After planting
myself in a shiny, red stool and ordering a musty smelling vintage I spoke up,
"So what have I gotten into this time?"

                "Shit, bad
shit, Some of the darker angels think your prolonged vacation quite unfair and
have decided to cut it short, with a knife, or a sword. You know how word of
mouth is, the details always arrive mangled. But anyway, they're defiantly on a
serious search for blood." (It was amazing how nonchalant she could sound
about a plot to slice me up.)

                "Who and how
many, when, and were?"

                "I don't
know who or when or where, but I think there are probably two or three of them,
and I think you owe me a thank you and a big favor."

                "Thanks, I
just adore knowing that I may well die soon and having no Idea how to prevent
it, but at least I'll have time to plan my funeral, and about that favor, you
can call it in when I'm in a hundred different pieces." By now I was very
glad of the drink in my hand and also very drunk, If ever someone wanted to
kill me, and quite obviously they have, that would have been a perfect time.

                Five songs, six
moldy wines, and half an hour later I was laying half over the bar swatting at
imaginary cats in little black caps and most likely yelling something foul. I
had no car, so that wouldn't be a problem but it was early morning now and the
messenger of death had gone, leaving me alone to stumble back the my hotel.
When I arrived I was clear that the maid hadn't gotten to my room yet because
my bed was a mess and my watch was still there, though even if it hadn't been I
don't think I would have noticed or cared. I must have slept the entire day and
following night because when I woke up it was the exact same time, and my watch
had gone. I didn't know who was after me so there was little I could do but
wait for them to show up and pray for luck, and maybe buy a weapon. I climbed
out of the three-foot-thick bed and tried to wash the smell of alcohol from my
skin and clothes, I didn't think it would help me arm myself, then slipped back
into a pair of black pants and a leather jacket then left the building. It's
surprising how difficult it is to find a store that sells real swords now a-days
but eventually I found a nice blade and scabbard at a small antique dealers.
Afterwards I bought a long overcoat  to hide the it from curious onlookers and
vicious angels. Now all there was left to do was wait, so I took the time to
continue my tour of the city.

                After walking around
town for some hours my path began to veer casually uphill and made up my mind
to continue on for a while longer, past shops draped in plants and windows
wrapped in curly, iron railings I reached the top of the path and found that I was
standing by the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur, the white basilica atop Montmartre.
I ate up a few minutes walking around it and admiring the domes at its top and grabbing
a bite to eat but was on my way again after only thirty minutes or so. Shortly
I reached Place du Tertre, and began to walk around the stalls sporting
paintings of the Eifel Tower, flowers, and tourists. It seemed every other
artist was offering to paint commemorative portraits whether they had stalls or
just sat on the brick curb. Surrounding the painters were all sorts of
restaurants and giant striped umbrellas. From the corner of my eye I glimpsed
shadows twirl into view then slip away again and was sure the guests had
arrived so I hid away in the corner of an alley and made myself invisible to
the men and women around me. The next moment three men, angels, were standing in
front of me, two with swords and one with a pair of sharp daggers. I drew my
own sword and braced myself for their next move when the tallest one on the
left darted forward to take a swing at me. I blocked it easily but the other
two took the opportunity to move in and would have made quick work of me had Sabine,
my ex-partner, not swooped down to my side at that moment and blocked they're
combined attack. At least the odds were not so much against me after her
arrival, yet I'm sure one slip up would have cost me my life. For a moment they
were caught of guard by her sudden appearance and I was able to slice down the
one who had attacked my without complication, the other two were more difficult,
however. Sabine was able to propel the remaining swordsman into a dustbin with
the butt of her sword and I battled back and forth with the angle carrying the daggers
for a minute before he managed to corner me in the back of the alley we were
in, luckily Sabine was there to help me ,again, and skewered him through the
back of the head before he could do the same to me. Meanwhile the final
treacherous angel had pulled himself out of the garbage can and was preparing
to strike down my rescuer when I swing up my weapon and narrowly deflected his
strike. Spinning around Sabine spotted the attacker and ran her metal of her
sword  through his neck before he had time to recover from my block. His blood
spattered across the wall in front of me and then three men lay dead or dying on
the pavement to my left.

                It took use half
an hour to find a suitable place to dump the bodies and the other half to lug them
over there and dump them. The hiding place was a large, industrial trashcan by
a construction site that was full enough of sheetrock and other materials that
we could easily cover them up before the workers got back from lunch. What
would happen to them after we left was a thought we preferred to let set and
even when they were inevitably discovered due to the stench of rotting flesh or
an unusually large amount of flies, there was nothing to connect use to their
deaths. There wouldn't be any problems from the other angels, either, because
most prefer to stick to matters of their own and have learned that it is better
not to meddle in the affairs of the others of their kind. Occasionally there
would be some who wanted trouble, like the ones we had dealt with, but
something always comes along to end them eventually. Though, at the time and
ever since, it has been over with and is no longer a concern to Sabine or I. 
Though I was quite grateful to her for saving my bacon I was not even able to
thank her before she had disappeared out of site. She did not return for the
rest of the day, nor for many years following the fight. This wasn't uncommon
though because angels never spend much time on social matters and are mostly
work driven, excepting, of course, myself and any others who may be like me,
though I have not heard of any others.

                By the time it
was all over [the fight, the disposal of the bodies, and the departure of
Sabine] the sky was fading into a dark orangish-grey and I could already see
street lights turning on in the walkways of larger. I didn't feel like I would
be able to sleep after seeing so much blood, and the moon was becoming stronger
now, so I decided to walk through the night until the sun had risen to offer me
some comfort. As I wound my way around I did my best to banish all thoughts
other than those about my surroundings and aimed my path of towards the river Seine
and was made to pass unsettlingly close to the Notre Dame; luckily enough it
appeared that all flying monsters that may have been in attendance were all still
sound asleep. All around me were shadow cast storefronts though in the distance
I could see larger, newer buildings that reflected every spec on light available
of their glass exteriors. I could hear the sound of rushing water from a few
blocks away and smell it from a not much closer distance. Once on the sidewalk
that ran along the upper edge the river's northern edge I searched out a set of
stairs and walked down to the lower walkway; past an opening in the concrete
that led down into the dimly lit expanse of the subway system. As I went along beside
the twisting waters I watched other waters drip into it via storm drains and
mix with the currents of black, night water and lonely pieces of trash. On the
rippled surface I could see the reflection of the moon, scattered stars and a
few lights in high-up apartments. I walked on for the remainder of the night
and watched as the water of the Seine lightened and blossomed with all the
colors of the sunrise. After a saw the first of the walking and biking
commuters begin to pass me on the way to another uneventful day of their lives,
I called my hotel to tell them I would no longer be staying in my room and
would greatly appreciate it if they would stop adding days to my bill, then
went on my way.

                After another few
hours I stopped at some small café for breakfast, and to rest my legs. I could
now see the sun clearly over the buildings around me and watched a few stray
clouds burn off, leaving only a warm blue morning and the smell of Nutella on
toast. The city was already filled with the sounds of busses and bustling
people trying to get from A to B, and I couldn't help but let my mind drift to
the fact that there may already be cops investigating three bodies found
mysteriously dumped into a construction zone dustbin. I was safe, no one would
ever find out who had killed them or why they were dead but all the same my
stomach clenched at the thought of what I had done and I was forced to shift my
attention back to that which was going on around me before I could finish my
food and take off again. This time I headed for the nearest bridge and crossed
over to the southern side of the river before heading farther west toward the
Eiffel tower, I figured that there was nothing that I could do about the history
of my trip except sit around and mope or get on with life. Of course I chose
the latter. They say it's the journey and not the destination that should
matter so rather than tempt fate I spent my time gradually walking around,
taking detours and exploring interesting side routs while heading in a
generally correct direction, and probably adding a good amount of time to the
walk. It must have taken me another couple of hours, all distractions
considered,  because when I reached the monument there were already people
lunching around it. Too crowded, I decided, so I set out to find a nice place
to nap and a snack and in some shade near the base of the tower I made myself
comfortable and lay right down and went to sleep in the comforting rays of the
sun, perfect.

                When I awoke the
sun had fallen from the sky and most all of the people who had once been there
had gone with  few coming to replace them. It was dark but not very for the
lights of the city surrounding me were like those of a thousand fireflies come
out of the shadows to show me their colors. This was also perfect. I had
managed to wake at the perfect time of night to sneak up the giant metal
structure before me and get a special VIP view of night time Paris, un-enounced
to security, though it may be. In accordance to my deal I couldn't fly up to
the top and had few special powers to use to my advantage though I had passed
my hypnoses class with flying colors, that would have to be enough. Luckily the
guard at the front had drifted off to sleep and left his set of keys unguarded.
Quietly I let myself in and climbed the numerous steps to the top, halting for
a moment to send the guards on the second level into a deep slumber before
going on my way. The cleaning crew had already reached the top floor so the
elevator was on and working, if they ever shut it off, and I took it straight
up, hypnotizing everyone that I saw, though it wasn't the fastest progress, it
was effective. Finally I was alone in the top of the Eiffel tower. I could feel
the crisp morning air waft through the grating around the viewing area and
settled in to watch the sun rise on yet another day. With surprising speed the
grey sky turned to a pinky orange that was reflected in hundreds of windows as
well as the Seine. I took my time walking around the observation patio and
looked over the entire city as it came to life, after about half of Paris had
passed under my gaze I noticed how the colors of the morning were giving the
white basilica a reddish tint and marveled at the fact for awhile before the
sky changed its robes again and donned an new turquoise tinge that would most
likely hang around for the rest of the early morning. In order to assure that I
was out of there before the guards woke up are visitors began lining up, I left
soon after the show was over. In the back of my mind I felt sorry  for the
employees I had tricked but the majority of my mind was still either marveling
with the beauty of the morning or possibly just gloating at the cunning of my
plan and the simplicity in which it had been executed.

                Life, I had lived
and I am living. I have only been gone a month but I already miss the use of my
wings like I would that of a severed limb, I even miss the acceptance of their
community of hard faced angels I used to know. Only one has spoken to me since
my departure and that was in the grimmest of circumstances. I realize now that
though the world is vast and I will always yearn to explore it freely, in a way
I already was just by traveling all around the world and through the centuries to
help those the boss deemed beneficial to the world. The time I could spent was limited
but if I had tried I bet I would have been able to do all I could ever want to,
and what I could not do I could squeeze into the our three day weekends. Above
me I could see the sky lighting up with the full intensity of the noon day sun
and wondered how long I had been tossing my thoughts around.

                For the rest of
the day I wandered around trying to make up my mind on whether I would like to return
to my place, stopping only to grab a quick meal wedged within the time when
next to nobody was eating then drifted away from awareness again. When I had
made up my mind I changed directions ever so slightly and began to head even
further into the thick of big city Paris. Concrete surrounded me on three sides
and all the buildings were modern blocks or curved new age designs. The walls
stretched much higher into the blue abyss of sky, though by far the tallest
complex I could see was the "Tour Montparnasse" (Montparnasse Tower)
just about five more blocks away. Subconsciously I must have already known what
I would choose to do since I had headed straight to where I would do it, or
possibly everything was just a long series of coincidences. Walking the final
stretch I noted that the darkness was returning in the air around me and the
night life was beginning to creep out of wherever it hid during the light hours
of the day. The shops were lit up and through large windows suits, furniture,
jewelry and food could be seen sitting proudly on display. On the road cars and
busses roared loudly as they passed me by and honked with anger at the drop of
a pin. In my opinion they were the loudest, ugliest, most difficult beasts to
deal with that had ever been used for transport. In I a city where you could
get anything you needed in  the space of a half hour walk there really was no
point to demand transport that could move one hundred miles per hour. Every
three yards there was a tree sprouting from a hole in the cement that was no
higher than my shoulders and wore only plain oval leaves and light brown skin.
All the old trees had gone, along with any character there may once have been.
The modern world was great, but the sixteenth century renaissance was by far my
favorite time, though the new club scene and instant messaging were defiantly
something to show for the twenty-first century. 

                Twenty yards from
the skyscraper I stopped and craned my neck backwards to view the top of it. My
watch told me that It was eight o-clock, good, I had time for dinner.  Not far
from the gigantic glass building I found a Bar and ordered a hamburger and a
beer, then killed time watching sports on a small, ceiling mounted, pixilated
TV. They had finished showing the game and switched to the news by the time it
was midnight and I had run completely out of fries.  Climbing down from the
duck-taped bar stool and paying my tab I left the smoky room and returned to
the Tour Montparnasse. Visiting hours were over so I  went in the back door and
progressed to the 59the floor and then the roof in the same way I had the
Eiffel tower. On the roof it was cold and dark, all the lights had been
switched off and I could see the entire city. I stared at the sky and thought
about the past month an all about the dancers who now kept my dreams, the
buildings that guarded them, the gargoyles who had attacked me and the visit
from Sabine. I thought about the sunrises, the view from the Eiffel tower, not
so different from the view that I could see right now, and all the lights. The
carnival, the houses, the stars gazing up from the Seine, street lights and
cars. How bright everything is. Then I thought about my wings, about flight,
and helping people; I thought about my purpose and my friends. I thought about
all I had seen and done in my life before I even left my job, and suddenly I
felt homesickness begin to tighten around my stomach; not for the first time. I
had walked to the edge of the railing so I was able to hoist myself up into a
standing position atop it without much effort to where I was balanced above the
sea of lights. Then a large gust of wind blew through me and I leapt from my
perch to soar above the world with it. For a moment I felt weightless and began
to plummet, toward the roofs of other nearby buildings or the street I couldn't
say. The white speckled blackness started rushing up to meet me right as I unfurled
my wings. Their glossy black plumage reflected the electric glow and far above
me the moon shown large in yet another black abyss. In the city  rivers of cars
flowed, carrying people who would never know or see half of what I had
discovered in a thousandth of my life so far. I flew for miles, the cold meant
nothing to me. In the  odd light of morning I could be seen flying out over the
sea and away towards the horizon, passersby would say with no doubt that I was
the largest crow they had ever seen. As I flew I watched the water as white
rays of moon rolled over it.. The navy blues and blacks of the sky were mirrored
in the water.. The morning was gorgeous and the world was waiting. I had a job
to do, after all.