Next To An Angel

Next To An Angel

Marsha was tongue-tied. That was something for her, since she seldom stopped talking except when she was asleep!

“Would you look at his beautiful hair! The light shines on it like a halo!” she told herself.

He must have felt her staring as he looked toward her. He raised a hand wearing a glove in acknowledgement and smiled. She bent her face down and twiddled her fingers at him.

“Hello, my name’s Gabe,” she heard a masculine voice say.

“Marsha,” she said in a whisper without looking up.

“I haven't seen you around.”

“We just moved in.”

“If you want someone to show you around, knock on my door,” he said pointing to a yellow brick house with a red door and roof.

“Wow!”

“My mom said she wants it to be seen from space.”

The two of them laughed.

“I’ve got some time; I could give you the two-bit tour. The fifty-cent tour we can do another time as it takes longer, and you might be busy.”

Marsha laughed again.

“I’ll take the two-bit tour because I have to be home to go shopping for my bedroom in about half an hour.”

“You got it!” Gabe said crooking his elbow for her to take.

“Does your hand hurt?” she said indicating the covered one.

“Not with the glove on. It’s very damaged. It doesn’t swell or hurt as much if I wear a glove.”

“Wow! For all I know you could have an iron fist in that velvet glove.”

“I thought about it, but I hear phantom pain is worse if you amputate.”

He reached up and placed that hand around her throat and began to close it.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Once I close it, I often can’t open it again without help.”