Across the pool, two nymphs caught my eye, their movements perfectly in sync with the hypnotic rhythm of the music. My usual calm demeanor shifted into a nascent, hot, carnal desire. I had to rub my eyes as these playful, topless, redheaded vixens glided over, holding refreshed chi-chi cocktails and vying to be the first to dance with me.
They circled me. One traced the lower part of my wing with her finger while sucking my earlobe as if she were savoring marrow from a roasted beef shank. The other slipped her hand between my legs, slowly gliding from my navel to my lower spine. I was ready to move this to my room.
But then, the inevitable happened. The message, the one I’d been dreading, arrived with an urgency that couldn’t be ignored. The weight of my responsibilities came crashing down on me in an instant. I had no choice but to answer the call, even though it would likely mean the end of my brief respite.
I froze as I ascertained the nature of the dire notification. My weariness begged my eyes to succumb, yet I energetically rose to the occasion, quickly dismounting my inflatable ride. As I grabbed the right temple of my sunglasses, the feel of the grip brought to my consciousness an image of the hefty spliff I had in my pocket. Needless to say, it got soaked in my momentary lapse of judgment.
I had committed to vacating the warm, fuzzy facade occupying my mind and accepted a momentary chill. The gravity of the moment was apparent. As quickly as my furlough commenced, my feet touched the pool floor, and it ended. I bid farewell to those girls as they giggled feverishly at my creepy awkwardness.
The report conveyed the loss of an angel. I paused and reluctantly left my place of respite to return to my office in the Celestials. I felt strangely rejuvenated, perhaps I had flown close to the sun and survived.
I vacated my inflatable birdy, allowing a desperate party of imps to take my place. The imps wasted no time seating a cute, bright-eyed teenage human in my ride and flipping me off simultaneously. The imps had their hands filled as they worked two intoxicated angels while sharing the girl. They helped me regain my sense of purpose in a morbid, serendipitous way. Despite feeling better, I walked dejectedly to the Haven portal, ruminating upon my truncated holiday.
I reflected with reverence, sensing an odd tugging inside. At an event with many nephilim and celestials, it did not appear that anyone else received the report, which was curious. Nephilim are not celestials, but being half-breed, they have an uncanny sense when a message occurs. Camille’s direct communication was rare, especially for such an important message. I seemed to be the only one.
Arriving at the Celestial gate, still in my swimsuit and shades, I expanded my wings and flew to my office just outside. It was not the most professional look, but my attitude was: Who needs a dress code when you’re a Celestial? On second thought, I needed to grab a notebook, wash up, and change into a suit before acting on Camille’s report. This missing angel case was a top priority and unsettling. I needed to start officially in my uniform and be prepared.