Devonne Brown

“Hell, Stan, there are too many for a list?” Stan shook his head no, and whistled low. Greg oozed frustration. “Were you ever sure about anything?”

“ I swear we’re here.” Stan jumped up and dunked on Greg.

Steve dunked on both of them, then got serious.

 “We’ll never get a list like this right,” said Mike. He lit the fire pit he built in heaven with cloud puffs and light sabers. He could have used evergreen and rocks, but he was feeling playful.  Mike just wanted to do it right, regardless of genre.  He was kind of perfectionistic as well as a pretty boy that everybody wanted to hate but didn’t. He was likable.

The fireplace gave off the kind of heat you could warm your hands and think with.  It served the same function as a firepit on earth. It glowed with a pastel fire inside cotton candy clouds. Several angels warmed their hands around it. Their wings glistened in the starlight. Angel wings glisten in starlight the same way the ocean glistens in the moonlight, only way better. It’s an underrated, unseen by most mortals spectacle.

“Why Do we make the list on wing and robe day?” asked Hammat.

“Because it’s Christmas Eve,” said Alan. “The day people need us”

“What did He tell you about calling people idiots? That cigar doesn’t give you a genius vibe, by the way,” He reminded Charlie and everybody else what he thought.

“World Peace. Put world peace at the top of the list,” said the athlete of the angels. 

“O please, we always put that one at the top of the list, and nothing ever comes of it. It’s a running joke in the beauty pageants. War is like the moon, it waxes and wanes, and will until it blows Earth up. World peace, put a pin in that one. Next,” said Sandi

“End world hunger,” said Hammat.

“Right. That one’s been on the list every year too. Can’t we be more original? Find things more doable? Achievable?” asked Bobbi, a little Chihuahua of an angel.

“Nope. Can’t fix what’s not on the list. World Hunger it is, right under World Peace. This list has to be made, it’s what needs to end on the planet for people to survive, if we stop trying, well…you know…write the freakin’ list” said Alan.

He was in the character of a German tutor. He waved a baton. His demeanor, impeccable. He was the ultimate showman.

Alan wove decency and humor together in intricate braids of wisdom. He performed on metaphysical level far ahead of any training available in West Virginia in the ’70s.

All the angels grunted in agreement, kicked the ground a little bit to show their disgust and embarrassment.The world’s problems wouldn’t be solved whether they were on the list or not. If the issue didn’t make the list and got ignored altogether, whew, big trouble.  They made the list thorough and succinct  and sent it by cherub to God and got it out of the way. Mission accomplished.

Mothman and angels are equally real. If folks wanted to believe in Mothmans’s fair haired cousin, that’s fine. Everybody needed to believe something. Beliefs are excuses for behaviors, especially religious dogma. It was the fussing and fuming folks got into over their beliefs that was so awful. Nobody cared if Mothman had an albino cousin, but somebody wanted to fuss about it, especially because they couldn’t prove it. 

Wing and robe day lasted as long as it kept the angels’ interest. It was all terribly subjective, but everybody went home happy. There are rules, enjoy the experience, be teachers, be healers, and be helpers. Wing and Robe Day was Christmas Eve.

Most of the angels had moved back to the light saber fire pit. They were stretching their wings and moving their hands. A couple of them had already changed back into jeans and hoodies. They wouldn’t need to be recognized anymore for a year. Robe and wing day was a special occasion for both angels and mortals. It was a day to restore joy. 

“What do you want? June?” The angel jock was curious. “What’s on your list?”  June was a hundred when she passed in her sleep.. The athletic angel was fifteen when he crossed over playing basketball in his driveway. 

“I showed up at Dad’s biker club last year. Dad kept swatting at me like I was a fly when I tickled him with my wings. Then, I wrapped my wings around him. I hugged him tight until he belly laughed and giggled.  He stayed in that mood the rest of the day. I’m going to go do that again, it was cool” said LT.

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