Stories tagged angels

Things Found In The Wreckage Of Angel 1508

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A canister of unused laughter taken from the mouth of a baby not yet born A splinter of wood from a cross, perfectly preserved in dark tea taken from the belly of a dead Irishman A milky vial of smog taken from the air of Los Angeles circa 1965 A


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You held my hand when I hit the ground and told me the shakes would start soon.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 15

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Steve Bancroft’s future wife showed up at his door that same night, slamming her hand loudly against the door and shouting for him. “Steve, Steve, wake up. Damn it, come on. You forgot to pick me up at the airport. Who are you in there with? I said wa

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 19

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His wings were down when he got into the truck. It was a used UPS truck we’d bought from someone in Berkeley, and we painted out the letter “S,” so that it just read “UP.”

The Bridge Between Angry Streets

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The streets are fast, and they are hard; for anyone, right down to the insects who are unwittingly sentenced to a hard surface hell.

The Slender Scent

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The rebel angels have done their work.

"But Stringing Up Darkies Is"

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The cat's on the floor fussing with the plastic bag from the liquor store. There are tiny scratches and bites on my hand. The TV is fully concerned with liquor-induced violence. "These people are thirsty." I'm the same, but my needs are met. Prohibition's over. …

Death of a Poet (but not yet)

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A half-dozen times, he had rebuffed the man’s request to read for him, until the poet accepted that Hugh was no soft touch, no touch at all.

Private Red

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Your favorite nickname existed only in the bright red cherry smoldering at the end of your smoke.

Michael & The Reaper

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That sound. Bone against bone. Skin across skin. Blood fraying into the unknown dark. He loved that sound.

Far Star Girl

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She thought maybe an angel had called out her name. She wasn't sure. She was waiting for her older sister to return with Jujy Fruits and bonbons. The theater, neither light nor dark, was to Cassie's ten-year-old mind, an appropriate-enough setting for a v

The Last Warrior

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His wings, like tiny shoots, grew a season in an instant. The pain was gone now. He rose up as effortlessly as centaurs run, as angels fly. "I will sing your name as my brother among my brothers," the Seraph promised. Kladius watched the beasts below


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He knows I talk to angels, what he would call angels. I don’t talk to him.

The Angel with The Broken Wing

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"She was like a perimeter guard for an advanced race of beings who looked human but were somehow para-human entities focused only temporarily within this dimension."

Cathedral Garden

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the whirlpool of what