wings

Can I ask you something very personal while you try things on?___es, of course, what do you want to know?___well, it__ just that_ I don__ want to offend you,_ she said uncertainly. __h come on, Akane, out with it!_ Mitsuko prompted her, __ want to know the answer too!___ery well,_ agreed the little auburn pixie and cut to the chase: __here are your wings?__he question was so unexpected that I burst out laughing. __ had to part with them when I came down to Earth. __t__ something every angel has to deal with if they__e planning to spend any length of time down here.___nd what__ your life like, up there?_ Akane asked. __n the Kingdom of Heaven, we live as beings of pure light._ __p there, there__ no such thing as fear, pain, hot or cold. We don__ know hunger, suffering, ageing or death. We have no need of food and we don__ sleep. We are the messengers of God and we watch over the lives of mortals. We come to Earth often, but only as spirits, and once we__e completed our task down here, we always go back to the White Woods.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.

If only I had wings, I would not hesitate to fly away from my mistakes.

I wouldn't mindif life left me...winglessburnt to cindersripped by stormsscattered...like weedscelestially woundedwithout cherry blossomsto perish withbut I would crywith head held in my handsif it left me...unfulfilled.

A woman without her sister is like a bird without her wings.

On the wings of love I soared high in the sky, free as a bird feeling blessed that I could love once again. That tight knot in my stomach which always drained my emotions had suddenly disappeared. ____ free at last _ I shouted with unbridled glee.

Or was that fatalism another good move in design space? Did the universe evolve eyes and wings and sense organs and bitter amusement at the prospect of death all the same way?

I am tired of having handsshe saidI want wings __ut what will you do without your handsto be human?I am tired of humanshe saidI want to live on the sun _

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars.The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone.__ou__e . . . ,_ he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. __uch a pain,_ he concluded.__hat?_ I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one ofFang__ hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination.Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and . . . Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang__ arms around me now, sliding under mywings, his hands flat against my back.It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him.It was a total disaster.Gasping, I pulled back. __, uh_,_ I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking himover, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.

Sitting makes us think of standingOur current stance keeps on demanding We wish to fly without the wings Puppets move before pulling the strings

Fang swerved closer to me, big and supremely graceful, like a black panther with wings. Oh, God. I'm so stupid. Forget I just said that. "He needs a Band-Aid," I said. A look passed between me and Fang, full of suppressed humor, relief, understanding,love _ Forget I said that too. I don't know what's wrong with me.

He screamed in agony as large black wings erupted from his back - each had four large talons on it.