Gashes

He found her lying in the street.

He was on his way home at the time. Having just got off the bus, he was taking his usual short cut to the back of his apartment block. It was a quiet street with poor lighting, but he saw her as soon as he turned into it. She was dressed in some kind of thin, white dress; not enough to keep the cold out; that was for sure. He knew that laying there on such a cold night meant the she had to be unconscious. As he crouched down beside her, he could make out dark patches on the back of her dress. As he leant over she opened her eyes and smiled. He helped her up.

“What happened?” he asked, with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

She seemed a little dazed. “I fell,” she said.

He shuddered with the cold. “I’m right here,’ he said, pointing at the building.

She nodded.

He had a ground floor apartment and they were soon inside; her sitting, him boiling a kettle. “I’ll make us hot drinks,” he grinned, “and I won’t ask too many questions if you don’t want me too.”

Again, she only nodded.

He was arranging cups when he said, “There’s a shower through there. It’ll probably make you feel better.” With a degree of awkwardness, he put a hand to his heart. “I promise, you’d be perfectly safe.”

“I know,” she said. She got up and made her way through.

He called out, “There’s a heavy dressing gown on the back of the door, please help yourself,”

He would wait until she was out before making drinks. He sat, listening to the shower hissing and trying to imagine how it had all come about. He realised that he hadn’t asked her if she was hurt. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

The shower stopped and a few minutes later she returned, dressed in the gown and looking better. She sat down, saying, “Thank you for your kindness.”

He went back to making drinks. He called out, “I should have asked; how’s your back?”

There was silence for a beat. “You saw?”

“Yes, patches of something. If needed, I can get you to the hospital.”

She said, “No, thank you.”

“OK. Or a doctor, if it’s just something that needs to be looked at.”

“No, I’m fine,” she called back.

He brought the drinks through and without thinking, lifted the collar of her gown back. What he saw made him freeze. The great gashes running down her back! The congealing blood! He knew what he was looking at.

He sat down and looked hard, for the first time, into her lovely face. “I know,” he said. “I know what you are… the gashes; where the wings have been ripped off.” His eyes watered, “You’re a fallen angel.”

She lowered her head. “Yes.”

“How?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“You committed some sin?”

She nodded.

“It must have been something terrible.”

She looked up. “No. Not really. You wouldn’t think so. You have to understand, we have much higher standards than you.”

“Can’t you make amends in some way?”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

He leant forward. “What happens now?”

She leant forward as well. “It’s best if you don’t know; it’s best if you don’t know any of this”. With a smile she said, “Thank you again for your kindness.” With that, she tapped the back of his hand…

…as he turned into the back street, an icy wind hit him. He paused shuddering. He walked on faster.

He couldn’t wait to get in.