Angel

[jR]

I have falling asleep, when the Angel comes in my room. His face is white and his lips have brown colour of blood. He is dressed always in a black costume, a green velvet hat and violet gloves.

Behold, is he sits down to desk, and standing behind him, I see, as his not large leather wings, covered by cherry varnish, are grown over him.

Slowly, night after night he writes his book. Sometimes, I've success to look in the book.

White sheets of a paper blind me, letters scamper off me, but I've still been the time to read the word: ETERNITY... Suddenly, I am moving itself from the table, and unintentionally touching an armchair with the sitting angel in it. He rushes to a window, throws open it. The leather wings are flapping. The Angel is soaring up upwards, and so, he is already a spot in the lively bright-green sky.

I wake up and burn the manuscript about the time, which sometime will stop.


/The Gift of Peter K./