Angels Don't Have Wings - Take 1
by Ron A. Sewell
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: Two little, old ladies on the London Underground receive an unusual request.
_____________________________________________________________________
Elsie and Doris, angels second-class, sit in heaven doing what they have done for years, chatting and knitting. When called upon by Archangel Gabriel, their task is to guide the souls of the departed to their respective destinations.
Carol, a dark haired, attractive girl of twenty-five, shivered on the sparsely covered bed in her decrepit bed-sit. She had been married but that turned out to be a disastrous mistake. With no job and no future, she asked herself what was the point of it all? Wearing a shabby, black coat that almost reached her ankles she stared at the exposed and dirty wooden floorboards. These, once covered by cheap linoleum, added to her depressed state. To keep warm, she paced the room. At the window she placed her forehead against the cold glass.
A feeling of confusion and disorientation took hold. “How have I come to this?” she shouted. Dejected, she gazed at the threadbare room. Swallowing hard she forced herself to take a long, deep breath. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob. With neither food nor money to buy any, she heaved a sigh, walked out of that dismal room and left the house. For her, one solution remained.
In spite of the chilling air she walked to Liverpool Street Underground Station, her hand grasped the few remaining coins that would buy a ticket.
In silence, she descended into the bowels of the earth and waited on the westbound platform. The air began moving and became decidedly colder as the train came out of the tunnel with a roar. All the cars were full. Getting on, she found herself crushed against strangers.
The doors groaned shut and the train shuddered before it trundled out of the station. A man’s foul breath hit her face, she turned, twisting her neck and found her eyes meeting another. The train stopped and she peered into the darkness of the tunnel. It gave a tremble and she held on tightly as it ran on smoothly. An intense white flash hit her eyes. A deafening blast assaulted her ears. Her nostrils filled with the stench of burnt meat. From somewhere came piercing screams; all the terror of everything frightening in them. Moreover, it didn’t stop. Carol couldn’t feel her legs. She coughed in the smoke-filled darkness. A small child whimpered. Motionless bodies pressed against her. All around her seemed artificial. Petrified, she didn’t know what to do.
In the distance, brightness filled the tunnel and began moving slowly along the carriage. It must be help; she prayed it would soon be over. As the light got nearer, Carol could see the wreckage that trapped her. Twisted metal punctured what remained of ordinary people. Others lay unmoving in distorted poses like manikins in a horror movie.
As the light grew stronger, she heard, “There’s a lot today, Doris. Peter will be busy.”
“I know but why the young ones? They had so much living to do. Look at this young girl over here, can’t be more than ten. Ah, she’s still holding her mum’s hand. Better put the mark on.”
Carol lay absorbed as the unearthly scene around her unfolded. Two little old women, clutching their large handbags tight to their chests, walked slowly along the carriage, stopping and examining each body. They reminded her of a couple of charladies she had once known. Finding it difficult to speak, she stuttered, “What… What on earth are you two up to?”
“Oh dear, Elsie, we have one that’s neither here nor there and she can see us. What shall we do?”
“What are you asking me for, Doris? You’re the senior angel. You arrived in heaven five minutes in front of me.”
Doris rubbed her chin. “Your confidence in me is duly noted. We could give Gabby a call.”
“Don’t think he’d be too pleased. Tell you what, Doris, let her live, that’s our good deed for the day. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me, Elsie. I’ll put her to sleep and she’ll forget all about this. Can’t have mortals saying they’ve seen angels, can we?”
“Whoever you are, stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” croaked Carol. “Answer my question… What… What are you doing?”
Doris looked at Elsie and then to Carol. “Well, we’re the angels that come and decide where you’re going next. It’s a cross for up and a tick for down.”
“Why can’t I feel my legs?”
Doris went quiet for a moment. “Well, dear, angels aren’t allowed to lie.” She paused. “I have to tell you but you don’t have any legs. You’ll be pleased to know you’re not on my list so you must survive.”
“Oh, my God. What am I going to do?” Carol thought for the briefest of seconds. “Can I ask you something?” she said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t want people to see me like this. That little girl over there; can we swap places? You know what I mean, let her live and I’ll come with you. I was going to commit suicide today anyway.”
“Oh dear, that’s a horrible thing to do,” said Elsie. “It’s a good thing you didn’t; suicides are trapped in the middle.”
Carol was beginning to lose her patience. “Please… Won’t you do it?”
Doris moved closer and looked at her. “We can, but once we put the mark on, there’s no going back.”
The two ladies walked across to where the young girl lay. “Pretty little thing. What do you think, Elsie?”
“Gabby will go mad, but a life for a life; he believes in all that stuff, so let’s do it?”
Doris smiled sweetly and wiped the mark from the young girl’s forehead.
Carol wondered if anyone would miss her but doubted it. She looked at Doris. “I’m ready.”
She felt the warmth of Doris’s hand pass across her brow. As if by a miracle, she was whole and standing. Looking down, her legs were as good as new. Elsie took her by the hand. She glanced back, her damaged body lay with eyes closed on the carriage floor.
The young girl stirred and opened her eyes. From what Carol could see there was not a scratch or blemish on her.
From a distance, loud voices could be heard as the rescue teams raced along the tunnel.
“Quickly now,” remarked Doris, “or we’ll have to go to the hospital and you know how I hate hospitals. The last time I was in one I died!”
“One more question,” asked Carol.
“You and your questions. Make it quick,” retorted Doris.
“What will happen to the little girl?”
Doris smiled. “Only God knows.”
Swearwords: None.
Description: Two little, old ladies on the London Underground receive an unusual request.
_____________________________________________________________________
Elsie and Doris, angels second-class, sit in heaven doing what they have done for years, chatting and knitting. When called upon by Archangel Gabriel, their task is to guide the souls of the departed to their respective destinations.
Carol, a dark haired, attractive girl of twenty-five, shivered on the sparsely covered bed in her decrepit bed-sit. She had been married but that turned out to be a disastrous mistake. With no job and no future, she asked herself what was the point of it all? Wearing a shabby, black coat that almost reached her ankles she stared at the exposed and dirty wooden floorboards. These, once covered by cheap linoleum, added to her depressed state. To keep warm, she paced the room. At the window she placed her forehead against the cold glass.
A feeling of confusion and disorientation took hold. “How have I come to this?” she shouted. Dejected, she gazed at the threadbare room. Swallowing hard she forced herself to take a long, deep breath. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob. With neither food nor money to buy any, she heaved a sigh, walked out of that dismal room and left the house. For her, one solution remained.
In spite of the chilling air she walked to Liverpool Street Underground Station, her hand grasped the few remaining coins that would buy a ticket.
In silence, she descended into the bowels of the earth and waited on the westbound platform. The air began moving and became decidedly colder as the train came out of the tunnel with a roar. All the cars were full. Getting on, she found herself crushed against strangers.
The doors groaned shut and the train shuddered before it trundled out of the station. A man’s foul breath hit her face, she turned, twisting her neck and found her eyes meeting another. The train stopped and she peered into the darkness of the tunnel. It gave a tremble and she held on tightly as it ran on smoothly. An intense white flash hit her eyes. A deafening blast assaulted her ears. Her nostrils filled with the stench of burnt meat. From somewhere came piercing screams; all the terror of everything frightening in them. Moreover, it didn’t stop. Carol couldn’t feel her legs. She coughed in the smoke-filled darkness. A small child whimpered. Motionless bodies pressed against her. All around her seemed artificial. Petrified, she didn’t know what to do.
In the distance, brightness filled the tunnel and began moving slowly along the carriage. It must be help; she prayed it would soon be over. As the light got nearer, Carol could see the wreckage that trapped her. Twisted metal punctured what remained of ordinary people. Others lay unmoving in distorted poses like manikins in a horror movie.
As the light grew stronger, she heard, “There’s a lot today, Doris. Peter will be busy.”
“I know but why the young ones? They had so much living to do. Look at this young girl over here, can’t be more than ten. Ah, she’s still holding her mum’s hand. Better put the mark on.”
Carol lay absorbed as the unearthly scene around her unfolded. Two little old women, clutching their large handbags tight to their chests, walked slowly along the carriage, stopping and examining each body. They reminded her of a couple of charladies she had once known. Finding it difficult to speak, she stuttered, “What… What on earth are you two up to?”
“Oh dear, Elsie, we have one that’s neither here nor there and she can see us. What shall we do?”
“What are you asking me for, Doris? You’re the senior angel. You arrived in heaven five minutes in front of me.”
Doris rubbed her chin. “Your confidence in me is duly noted. We could give Gabby a call.”
“Don’t think he’d be too pleased. Tell you what, Doris, let her live, that’s our good deed for the day. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me, Elsie. I’ll put her to sleep and she’ll forget all about this. Can’t have mortals saying they’ve seen angels, can we?”
“Whoever you are, stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” croaked Carol. “Answer my question… What… What are you doing?”
Doris looked at Elsie and then to Carol. “Well, we’re the angels that come and decide where you’re going next. It’s a cross for up and a tick for down.”
“Why can’t I feel my legs?”
Doris went quiet for a moment. “Well, dear, angels aren’t allowed to lie.” She paused. “I have to tell you but you don’t have any legs. You’ll be pleased to know you’re not on my list so you must survive.”
“Oh, my God. What am I going to do?” Carol thought for the briefest of seconds. “Can I ask you something?” she said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t want people to see me like this. That little girl over there; can we swap places? You know what I mean, let her live and I’ll come with you. I was going to commit suicide today anyway.”
“Oh dear, that’s a horrible thing to do,” said Elsie. “It’s a good thing you didn’t; suicides are trapped in the middle.”
Carol was beginning to lose her patience. “Please… Won’t you do it?”
Doris moved closer and looked at her. “We can, but once we put the mark on, there’s no going back.”
The two ladies walked across to where the young girl lay. “Pretty little thing. What do you think, Elsie?”
“Gabby will go mad, but a life for a life; he believes in all that stuff, so let’s do it?”
Doris smiled sweetly and wiped the mark from the young girl’s forehead.
Carol wondered if anyone would miss her but doubted it. She looked at Doris. “I’m ready.”
She felt the warmth of Doris’s hand pass across her brow. As if by a miracle, she was whole and standing. Looking down, her legs were as good as new. Elsie took her by the hand. She glanced back, her damaged body lay with eyes closed on the carriage floor.
The young girl stirred and opened her eyes. From what Carol could see there was not a scratch or blemish on her.
From a distance, loud voices could be heard as the rescue teams raced along the tunnel.
“Quickly now,” remarked Doris, “or we’ll have to go to the hospital and you know how I hate hospitals. The last time I was in one I died!”
“One more question,” asked Carol.
“You and your questions. Make it quick,” retorted Doris.
“What will happen to the little girl?”
Doris smiled. “Only God knows.”
About the Author
Ron A. Sewell was born in Leith, Edinburgh. At the age of fourteen, he ran away from home. Heading for the south of France, he found work as a deckhand on luxury yachts. On his return to the United Kingdom, he enlisted in the Royal Navy, eventually becoming a commissioned officer. During his career, he travelled the world, qualifying as an engineer, deck officer, boarding officer, a diver, and parachutist and for a time part of an Air Sea Rescue team. This has given him much experience and many ideas.
Ron has been writing for twenty-three years. He has written numerous short stories (many of them published) and five complete novels to date. Two of the novels, entitled The Collectors, are currently with his agent, who is attempting to sell them to a publisher.
Ron has been writing for twenty-three years. He has written numerous short stories (many of them published) and five complete novels to date. Two of the novels, entitled The Collectors, are currently with his agent, who is attempting to sell them to a publisher.