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Remembering The Moon - Page 2

User Thread
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Doesn't every writer put a bit of themselves into everything they write? I'm sure it just happens that way after all all our knowledge is accumulated from the world around us and then used in interaction with others until we are all just part of one big narrative.

I'm glad you are enjoying it, I must admit I'm struggling with this one, usually my stories just write themselves but I'm having major writer's block with this story, I'm finding it hard to keep it going and just have no plan. Usually I make a full plan; start, middle, ending, characters, relationships, crisis etc. This one is like an agonisingly long childbirth with me trying to squeeze out a page at a time!

I hope you appreciate my struggle for art's sake!

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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
CHAPTER THREE β€' Visions And Visitations

I sat at my kitchen table feeling a little groggy from the Night-Nurse medicine that was now wearing off and I popped a couple of paracetamol in my mouth. I took a swift swig of juice and had my usual trouble swallowing the pills. I gagged as they failed to go down and got stuck on the back of my tongue, tasting like a disgusting chalky mess.

I took another swig of juice, threw my head back and shook it trying to make the pills go farther back into my throat. Finally they went down and I slammed the glass down on the table as an involuntary shudder over took my body β€' I hate taking pills!

Then I called work and told them I was taking a week off sick. My boss moaned at the inferiority of men with colds,
β€œIt's flu!” I coughed at her down the phone.
β€œYeah, yeah, you men always have flu when us women get by on a cold!”

I shook my head and immediately wished I hadn't as it hurt to do so,
β€œI'll get a doctor's note Carol OK, but right now I'm going back to bed.” And for the first time in fifteen years I put the phone down on my boss, her winging was cut short as the receiver clunked noisily onto the base unit, then I took it off the hook and left it lying on the table as I sauntered back to bed.

All day I drifted in and out of sleep. I drank gallons of water and fresh orange juice and wandered back and forth to the loo; all the curtains stayed shut as the light hurt my eyes and then in the middle of the night I woke up feeling much better and starving.

The house was pitch black as I tiptoed downstairs (although who I thought I was going to wake up I have no idea!) I put the lamp on in the kitchen as I was still quite light sensitive and raided the fridge.

After filling up on half the contents of my refrigerator I was now standing by the window washing an apple fresh from the garden and I noticed a strange soft blue glow radiating in through the half open blind. I stood rooted to the spot, unable even to turn off the tap, then cautiously I moved my hand just enough to open the blind and peered out into the darkness trying to make out what was causing the eerie light.

My eyes started to ache with the strain of trying to see in the gloom so I blinked and rubbed them. As I did so an unexpected vision popped into my mind's eye of a church, one just down the end of my road in fact. It was an old gothic building with dark stained glass windows and ornate mouldings and statues.

A stone angel drifted into view, the type used to decorate graves of children as if they are offering them some spiritual protection. Then I noticed more than just a passing resemblance to my angel, the scene panned around the graveyard and focussed in on an entrance to a tomb, the ancient stone steps leading down into a dark subterranean looking grave hidden under a tree in the far corner of the churchyard.

Finally the vision faded and I started to shiver β€' what was going on? A mysterious meeting of a strange pale girl in my garden, silver feathers and string like hair, memories of moonbeams and out-of-body nighttime dreams and now waking visions. Was I going mad? Was I experiencing fever induced hallucinations? I hastily got dressed and headed out into the dark, surreally still night to see if this tomb and stone angel actually existed.



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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
It was deathly quiet (appropriately enough) and the midnight air smelt sweet and fresh with just a hint of the salt of the sea, which stuck in the back of my throat and my nose was red raw from all the blowing and rubbing with kitchen towels as I had run out of plain tissues and had been too ill to go and buy more, therefore the slight saltiness of the sea air stung my cracked raw skin and I found myself twitching my nose like a manic rabid bunny rabbit.

It was only a five-minute walk to the church so I strolled slowly up the road mulling over my behaviour since her appearance in my garden and my life. I was like a man possessed; every waking moment (and now it appeared every sleeping moment also) was spent contemplating her and the mystery surrounding her. It was as if I had been hypnotised.

I stopped looking at my feet and saw the church looming up in front of me, its imposing dark architecture held an air of supernatural, spiritual existence which coloured the air with angels and demons and saints and sinners.

By the light of a sunny Sunday morning this building had an entirely different feel. Colourful outfits and women in their Sunday hats and laughing and chatting and singing was the order of the day, but here, now the silence of a dark and misty midnight evening pressed in on me from every side and visions of gargoyles and demonic laughing faces flashed into my mind.

I started to feel rather childish making this nighttime visit to the local graveyard. What on Earth was I hoping to achieve? But at last I was there, standing in front of the wrought iron gates, which were locked tight. I certainly didn't feel like getting done for going over the wall and trespassing on holy ground, so I wandered around the perimeter of the grounds, the old cobbled wall was only just past my waist so I could easily see over it into the dark and foreboding churchyard.

The trouble was, it was pretty much devoid of street lighting and what was there was on the outskirts near the roads not in the middle near the church, so it was nigh on impossible to discern individual graves and statues.

I skirted round the entire site, following the old cobbled wall and peering over it into the creepy dark mass of tombstones. There were quite a few angels and cherubs and a fair few trees so by the lack of light it was impossible to make out individual statues or see any hidden entrances under just any one tree.

I decided to give up the ghost (no pun intended) and make for home and my warm, cosy bed when yet again as was becoming a habit, I caught a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye; a flash of white and silver and a rustling noise like someone in long robes moving quickly. Or maybe someone with lots of feathers!

I tried to scan the vicinity quickly to catch whatever had gotten my attention, and finally with a quick glance over my shoulder to check the coast was clear, I leap-frogged the wall. Sod this I thought to myself, I just had to investigate this properly.


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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 33yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that fireangel is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
This is a truly intriguing story that you are devising. I realize I am late to come upon it but it is just recently that I began meandering around the sight once more. I do hope that you continue to post more, I understand that you are finding it difficult to continue on and think of new ideas but perhaps you would continue. I think you're really onto something here. Also I was wondering if you had any published works. I would really enjoy seeing what you can do with a full story...I have read all your posts of this story in one sitting and must say that I am rather forlorn that you stopped writing...please continue!

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 41yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Chained Wings is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I know you didn't have a long term plot for it and I know how hard that can be to keep the flow of a story happening if you don't have one. But you could at least give us all a little more from time to time.

And at the very least reply to poor Fireangel.


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"When I was a child I flew! Then as an adult- I watched others soar."
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Sorry guys I 've just come back from my hols and read these last comments. I promise I will carry on writing this one its just , you'll have to be patient with me I have got three children on Summer holiday from school and I am in the midst of re-writing another novel.

I'm sorry to say I haven't got any published novels as of yet, only poetry in various anthologies but that's why i am re-writing another of my stories, really trying to polish it up and pad it out before I submit it. Knowing me and my unfortunate perfectionist ways, it may be another few years in the writing (ever the struggling novelist in the making! )

Give me a few weeks and I'll post another couple of chapters. Thanks for reading it and your words of encouragement.

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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I tried to sneak through the graveyard like some comic thief in the night with exadurated tiptoeing movements, stopping every couple of seconds to peer around me to make sure no one was watching. To be honest I felt a complete fool and what made it worse was that I couldn't bring myself to step on the graves, so I made my way extremely carefully taking a very wide birth around each plot and nearly soiling myself every time I even touched the imagined site of a body with my big toe, snatching back my foot as if burnt and shivering at the thought of the rotting corpses below.

My heart was running away with me so I stopped to calm myself and leaned up against a statue taking long, deep drawn out breaths and taking the time to blow my now dripping nose. As I put the sopping tissue back in my pocket I took a good look at the statue I was leaning against. It wasn't my angel, the one from my vision, so I carried on my search for the said angel and kept alert for any movement, which may indicate the real thing in the vicinity.

I picked up the pace, moving quickly from one statue to the next, many of them were so similar but nothing jumped out at me as it were as the beautiful angelic face of my earlier vision. And then as I neared the church itself I saw it. As plain as anything, just sitting there as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the feeling of de ja vu shook through me, this is what I had seen, not just that it was the very statue, but it was the very view, the same angle, light, distance from the church everything as if I had literally had a premonition of me seeing this very same view of the statue in the churchyard.

I stood rooted to the spot, I had had de ja vu before but never this strong and knowing that I had in fact seen this before. I walked over to the statue and took a close look at the angel's face. It was uncanny how familiar she looked, how similar to the girl in the garden. I read the name on the grave next to it, it read 'Lucy Lovett beloved daughter'. She had died at just five years of age. I wondered how it had happened, had it been sickness, an accident? Who knows?

Now I had seen the angel statue and it was perfectly apparent that it was real and not a figment of my imagination I concentrated my search of the trees, looking for the dark corner hiding the steps to the tomb. As I did so I waited with baited breath for a glimpse of her, the ghostlike figure I had such an eerie attachment to. I moved away from the statue almost with a wrench at the thought of leaving her, my apprehension of being caught now forgotten, I purposefully hunted through the trees near the church and finally I found it.

Again the feeling that I had been here before at this exact moment seeing this exact view hit me like a shock wave, the very tomb of my vision and now I started to panic again at the thought of having to descend into someone's final resting place. A shivery, cold feeling took hold and then I sneezed and as I did so I heard a movement as if my sneezing had disturbed someone!

I whipped my head round to locate the source of the movement and saw her run past the church doorway towards the stone steps of the tomb. She was smaller than I remembered and looked slightly bedraggled in my oversized work shirt and an old pair of grey jogging bottoms held together with one of my belts. Her long, dark hair flying out behind her as she disappeared down the steps.
'Wait!' I called out and my voice seemed to echo really loudly around the grounds.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, leaping over the boundaries of the grave plots, as I still couldn't step on them for some reason. The tree, a willow I now realised, whispered to me as the wind stroked its long green hair like branches. I didn't stop to listen to its haunting message, but just hesitated slightly before stepping quietly down the steps.

On the third step down, a feather, another of those strange silvery white ones. I picked it up and looked at it frowning. She definitely did not have wings, I saw her. Then of course I remembered that night, scooping her up and laying her on my sofa, no wings! I definitely would have noticed or felt wings, so where were they coming from?

I shoved it into my pocket and continued down the very short flight of steps. The darkness smelt like fish and I gagged. Finally I poked my head around the corner and there she was, crouched on the floor shivering, her bare feet, filthy and bleeding with cuts from walking around with no shoes, her slender arms hugging her knees.

She looked absolutely petrified and tried to cower deeper into the shadows.
'Its OK!' I whispered, 'It's me, Michael. You were looking for me weren't you?' She stopped whimpering at the sound of my voice and shuffled towards the light from the moon shining down the steps, closer to me. As her eyes met mine they seemed to blaze with a light of recognition and she held up her arms to me like a child to its mother. I laughed slightly with nervous relief and came over to her scooping her up in my arms again and lifting her up the steps into the moonlight. Again the sight of the full moon seemed to hold her in its awe and she let her face bathe in its coolness for a moment. Then she turned to me smiling and whispered in a soft but hypnotic voice,
'Michael?' I nodded unsure how to react,
'Yes its me. Everything's going to be fine now, I promise. I'll take care of you.'

I could see she didn't understand what I was saying but she smiled anyway and snuggled her head into my shoulder as I carried her home. Once again I laid the trembling strange moon goddess onto my sofa fast asleep but this time I didn't close my eyes but kept watch until the first rays of the sun stirred her from her dreams and she woke up, stretched and smiled at me.
'Good morning!' I whispered, 'Who are you?'














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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 33yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that fireangel is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
And yet again you fail to bore me. I love where you're taking this. I could almost feel her head pressing against my chest as Michael carried her through the moonlight. It makes me sad that I don't have my own angel to keep me company or to look after.

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 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
CHAPTER FOUR – Revelations and raison d'etre

She smiled at me as she yawned and stretched out the tenseness of the night before and then she inclined her head and frowned at my question. I moved from my night time vigil in the armchair and cautiously knelt beside the sofa on the rug.

I looked deep into her eyes and instantly lost myself in their etherial beauty. I shook my head, snapping back to reality and pointed to my own chest.
'You know who I am, I'm Michael.' She smiled and repeated my name back to me, it sounded so soft and strange as if it belonged to another person. 'Yes, I'm Michael, but who are you?' And I pointed to her as I asked the question again.

She nodded and a light seemed to turn on in her face as she finally understood what I was asking her.
'I'm Qaphsiel.' She whispered and the name fell from her lips like one of those silver feathers floating to the Earth. I repeated the name back to her like she had done with mine,
'Qaphsiel?' She nodded,
'Yes, I'm Qaphsiel.' She copied my earlier affirmation. 'You know who I am Michael.'

I stared at her in wonder at the repetition of the sentence I had used, but in the right context.
'Do you speak English Qaphsiel?' Again she inclined her head in question. I sighed not sure where this was going and bowed my head.

Qaphsiel tipped my chin up and looked me straight in the eye and whispered,
'It's ok! It's me Qaphsiel. You were looking for me weren't you? Everything's going to be fine now, I promise. I'll take care of you.'

Something in me crumbled then and I took her in my arms to embrace her, weeping into her thick dark hair. I know she had just repeated back to me what I had said to her, but the emotions it brewed in me were real, she knew what she was saying.
'How is this possible Qaphsiel? Who are you really and where are you from?'

I pushed back away from her and strode over to the bookshelf to look for a book I had taken out of the library on angels. It had a traditional angel painting on the front, with angels weeping at Christ's feet as he suffered on the cross. I pointed to the angels.
'Are you an angel Qaphsiel?' I asked in a shaky voice and felt really stupid asking the question.

Qaphsiel got up and took the book from my hand and looked sad, really unhappy. She looked at me and then back at the picture, she pointed to one of the angels and said,
'Yes, I'm angel.' Then she pointed to another angel in the picture, the one kissing Christ's bleeding feet and said, 'Yes, Michael an angel.'

I shook my head,
'No, Michael a human being. I mean I'm a human being.' And I pointed to myself again. Then I realized what she had said and tutted , 'Well, yes, Michael is an angel's name – The archangel Michael right? But I'm not that Michael, I'm just a human with his name.' I pointed at myself again and said 'Man.' Then at the angel picture and said 'Angel.' Then I shook my head, 'I can't be a man and an angel'

Qaphsiel listened intently and then smiled and her whole face lit up,
'Yes Michael a man and an angel.' I shook my head again and pushed my hair back and sighed. Then I thrust my hands into my pockets as I paced the room and found the feather. What was its story?

I whipped the feather out and showed it to Qaphsiel.
'Where are your wings Qaphsiel? If you are an angel, you should have wings.'
And then she laughed, a bell like, tinkling innocent and child like laugh and she reached out and plucked the feather from my fingers, it immediately disappeared.

I stumbled back in shock and tripped up a curled corner of the rug. I couldn't believe what was happening. She came to help me up then she stepped back, turned around and suddenly where seconds before there was nothing, there unfurled the most beautiful pair of angelic wings, pure white plumage rippling with a silver sheen. Then she said,
'Qaphsiel is human and angel yes?' And then they were gone again. I stood in total shock not able to speak and then managed to whisper,
'Why are you here?' She answered softly,
'You!'

As the response left her lips there was a noise from outside. Qaphsiel turned quickly towards the direction the noise had come from and then bolted to my side. She trembled and the complete fear was evident in her expression. She seemed to see something that I couldn't and appeared to watch whatever it was move past the window and grabbed my arm in terror.

'What is it? Qaphsiel what's wrong? What can you see? What are you watching?' She seemed to watch something move towards the front door outside and started to panic.
'Michael we are watched. We must fly.'

I shook my head again really frightened now.
'I'm not like you Qaphsiel, I'm not an angel, I'm a man, just a man, I cannot fly.'
She broke her vigil of the front door for a moment and made eye contact with me,
'You know who I am Michael.' And she nodded, then she took my hand and we ran to the back door.

As the door slammed shut the phone rang and the answer phone kicked in when it wasn't picked up.

'Michael it's me, Gabe, you are never going to believe what I have found out about those specimens you left me. I don't think I can talk on the phone because my research has interested certain people. I need to talk with you in person. Ring me as soon as you come home.'

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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Hi guys - thought I'd give you another chapter

CHAPTER SIX - Shadows in the darkness
Qaphsiel held my hand so tightly and pulled me along around the perimeter of the house so strongly that I almost felt afraid that if I tried to break free from her I wouldn't be able to. She was terrified of something that much was certain and she kept looking back behind us as if whatever it was, it was close enough to catch hold of us at any moment, and yet she couldn't communicate to me what 'it' was.

We came to the side gate into the garden and I opened it with just a slight pause as the fear on her face urged me on. As soon as the gate was open we ran down the garden and then in one movement she bent her knees as if getting ready to jump and then put one arm around my waist and held tight to my hand with the other and leapt into the air and as she did so her wings appeared and unfurled in one instant and started to beat and lifted both of us off of the ground.

I simply couldn't register what was happening and I couldn't catch my breath, she rose into the air so delicately and so swiftly that in a mere few seconds we were high above the town, the complete and utter terror of the situation was suddenly drowned by an amazing feeling of exhilaration. I was flying with a real live angel and it felt so natural and so farmiliar to me that I just didn't know what to make of it.

As we flew further in land I felt the tension in her relax and she looked over to me finally and smiled.
'We're safe, he is gone.' She said simply and started to descend to a farmiliar landmark. The long man on the hillside got closer and closer and she set us down on his chalky surface. My heart was thumping fast and my breath which had gotten lost for a moment at the swiftness of the descent returned to its normal rhythm, followed shortly after by my heart beat and I just couldn't keep my eyes from hers, my glorious angel my Qaphsiel, the girl from my moonlight garden.

I pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her, a long, urgent, passionate kiss filled with a burning love that overwhelmed me almost to fainting. She returned it eagerly and then gently pushed me away, smiling a small innocently embarrassed smile, her white skin tinted with the smallest hint of a blush.

Strangely I felt embarrassed as well, as if I shouldn't have dared to taint her perfection with such intimate contact at all. I wasn't sure what to make of the feeling so I moved away from her and sat down on the grass, my whole body still tingling from the kiss as if with a strange vibration of hidden energy that passed between us as we touched.

She sat down beside me and the vibration got stronger and in that vibration my body itself seemed to hear some sort of music, like I was picking up a frequency not known by man but only by angels. A universal music so beautiful and indescribable that the tears just started to fall unannounced and with an emotion so intense that I could never after that day describe it.

'I'm sorry Qaphsiel, forgive me. I should never have kissed you like that.' I suddenly didn't know where to put my eyes and so I looked away at the glorious view and at the sheep scattered around, milling about like lost souls; two of them were bleating at each other through the fence enclosing the long man in away from the general public's destructive curiosity. It appeared one of them had managed to breach the fence and had now gotten stuck, separated from its inconsolable friend.

Qaphsiel followed my line of vision then she looked back at me and asked,
'Why are you sorry? Do you not love me?' My heart again started beating loudly in my chest as I struggled to make eye contact with this pure creature of some other universe; I stumbled over my response,
'I love you with some deep, strange, profound emotion that I never knew existed. But you are an angel Qaphsiel; surely we aren't allowed to love in any Earthly way, are we?'

She looked really genuinely shocked by this and she reached over to touch my arm gently and stroked it affectionately, lovingly and the intensity of the emotions again started to rise in me and I jumped back from her, she flinched at my response and then spoke softly,
'Love isn't an Earthly thing Michael. Love is love, just love. Michael, I have been looking for you for such a long time and you have been looking for me. We were lost but now we have found each other again. We were always meant to love each other; love is the power that binds us, that links us, that keeps us from him. Do you not remember?'

I shook my head,
'Remember what?' She shuddered and darkness seemed to cover her eyes.
'We have met before Michael, in another place and time and when we were children we met again in yet another place and time and he is aware of the consequences of our meeting and he wishes to stop us this time.'

My head started to thump,
'This time? I don't understand what you are talking about.' Suddenly something occurred to me. She was talking fluently now. I got up and backed up; the whole situation was so confusing.

'How is it you can talk all of a sudden?' She smiled.
'I had forgotten how to speak; it has been a long time since we have been together. Just like you have forgotten your past with me. But you will remember again.' She got up and came over to me and then taking my hands in hers she whispered,
'He is near I can feel him in the darkness of the shadows. We must find the others and stop him this time.'

There it was again – 'this time!' What other time was she talking about? I had a small flash of a disjointed memory of me as a boy flying with a girl in a dream and then it was gone again and I was left still confused and wondering what on Earth was going on,
'The others? What others?' Did she mean other angels, humans, what was going on?

Qaphsiel brought my hands up to her mouth and kissed them so delicately that I sighed in pleasure at her touch, my eyes closed and a strange vision of shadows in the darkness behind my eyes came to life. A dark, negative feeling of chaos as the shadowy figures moved around in my mind's eye. I gasped as the evil of those figures leapt into my mind and I opened my eyes instinctively.

'You felt them didn't you? They are meeting as we are even now in the shadows of this universe and will soon be strong enough to break the chains that bind them.' She looked around and when she saw that we had moved off of the figure she grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto the chalky line.

'We must stay where they cannot reach us until it is safe to travel again. The energy of this place is strong and will protect us for the time being. Then you must fly with me Michael so we can gather the others, only then will we be strong enough to face them.'

She sat down on the chalk line of the long man and crossed her legs; she closed her eyes and started to talk in some foreign language and I got the distinct impression that it was no language found on this Earth. A warm feeling of light and love started to build in my heart and I sat cross-legged in front of her feeling like some New Age Hippy meditating on this ancient East Sussex site. I tried to stay grounded. It would all become clearer I was sure of that; I just needed to have patience.



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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
CHAPTER SEVEN – Revealing hidden truths
My angel of mystery sat on the ancient Wilmington chalk figure for hours, meditating and chanting in some strange language unknown to me. I felt sure that it must be some sort of prayer or spell because the words themselves seemed charged with some sort of positive energy and the warmth and light that seemed to radiate from her into my heart grew stronger as time wore on.

Then, as the noon sun beat down on me reminding me of the time of day and that I was starving hungry and had now missed two meals, she stopped and as I glanced over to her to see why she had stopped she appeared to flicker out of existence for a second.

I blinked hard and jumped up, shocked by what I was sure I had just seen and she smiled at me in a calming and extremely peaceful way and whispered,
'We are safe for a while; they are not in this universe at the present time. We can leave this temple and search for the others.'
'Temple? What temple?' I looked around searching out a building and realized what I was standing on, 'Oh you mean the figure! I suppose some do think of it as a sacred site.'

She stood and stretched out her arms to release the tension of sitting in such a confined position for so long and yawned. As she stretched, her wings appeared and she stretched them out too. They appeared to be about double her height in their length from tip to tip; about ten feet and they shimmered in the sunlight as the light refracted the silvery veins running through the white feathers. And then they were gone again and she looked just like any other young woman in her twenties, except she looked a little odd still in my dirty old clothes. It was just so bizarre the way her wings just blinked in and out of reality like that.

I stepped over to her and ran my hand over her slight back, they weren't just invisible, they simply weren't there.
'Where do they go when you do that?' I asked her. She smiled and made them appear again and then disappear,
'They are still here in this universe, just hidden in another dimension, a very slight vibration away, as are yours Michael, you just need to find them.'

I laughed and raised my eye brows,
'Find mine? Wings? You're saying I have wings hidden in another dimension?'
'Yes. That is what has kept you safe from him. Whilst your wings are hidden you are safe from their detection, but once your wings are in this dimension, all his angels will know we are here and that is why we must be swift to find the others and come together in force.'

She held out her hand to me silently, asking me to join her in flight again and without hesitation I took it and once more she put her arm around my waist, bent her knees and launched herself into the air, her wings appeared and set to work at the same moment. My heart flooded with a joy that I could only associate with the amazing sensation of flying with this most spectacular and perfect winged woman, words could never describe what my soul was experiencing in that single wonderful instant.

This time Qaphsiel flew higher in the sky and I started to become a little light headed up where I imagined the air to be thinner.
'Take us back to my house Qaphsiel, we need to eat and shower and change, then we can decide what our plans are and how to find these 'others' of yours.

She dipped suddenly and without warning and my stomach churned, I screamed despite myself and she laughed,
'You are funny Michael, why don't you find your wings and fly with me?'
'Because I am not an angel Qaphsiel, I'm not who you think I am.' She laughed again, and then she flew fast and silently straight into my garden. I was amazed that nobody saw us and said so.
'They cannot see us, just like you cannot see my wings when I hide them; we are still in this universe but are a mere vibration away in another dimension.'

As soon as her feet touched the ground her wings disappeared again and she walked quickly down the garden towards the house. I looked at her with new eyes and wondered how this was all possible, how could she be here and how could I be travelling in and out of dimensions with an angel?

It wasn't until we were past the small trellis separating the messy vegetable patch from the lawn that I noticed the activity at the house. I instinctively put out my hand to push Qaphsiel back behind the trellis and I put my finger up to my lips to keep her from making a noise. She nodded silently and we both peeked through the holes in the vine covered fencing to see what was going on.

There was a police cordon surrounding my house and what appeared to be a forensic team in white coveralls, masks and gloves coming out of my house with various evidence bags apparently filled with my personal belongings.
'What the Hell!' I whispered. Qaphsiel shrugged at me,
'What is wrong Michael? Who are those people?'
I shook my head.
'I don't know but they certainly weren't invited and this could mean my brother is in serious trouble.' Qaphsiel took in a sharp concerned breath and whispered in a worried tone,
'What can we do Michael? Should we go to him?' I shook my head again,
'I wouldn't have a clue where he is, but I'm guessing he's not at work and those samples I gave him must have revealed something about your existence that his superiors are now very interested in.'

I turned away from the house and walked back towards the end of the garden,
'We need to find a safe place to go Qaphsiel, somewhere where we can plan our next move.' I tried to think of someone I could trust but guarantee his or her safety at the same time and nobody came to mind then Qaphsiel seemed to have an answer.
'The temple Michael where you found me last night, the man of light there will help us.'

For a moment I was unsure what she was talking about and then a light went on and I realized she was talking about the church and the man of light must be the priest. I nodded and she quickly grabbed my hand and put her arm round my waist and we were airborne again and at the church in a matter of minutes.














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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
 49yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that Sorceress is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I was wondering if anyone had any constructive critique to offer on this story and maybe some ideas about where it might go. I'm open to ideas and comments

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""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""
Remembering The Moon - Page 2
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