Mortal Flesh

It is near impossible to believe that she was made of the mere mortal flesh that we are all composed of. She was more like an angel than a woman, if she were hiding wings underneath her clothing, I would not at all have been surprised. Her stunning, spectacular facial features captured my eyes, and her slender and wondrous body kept my eyes captured. In fact… for me to call her an angel is a sheer understatement.

She was a Goddess.

A magical being of beauty for which I was blessed, blessed to have been in the presence of. Her name does not matter, nor do I care for it, a name would only make her less of a Goddess in the eye of the beholder, in which case, is me.

I cannot but help to imagine her life before she and I crossed paths. Was she a mother, was she a sister, and was she a wife. These are more questions that should never be answered, because names and pasts need not be disclosed, especially to me. To know these things would also be to recognize individuality, which in my line of work, is a weakness, is vulnerability, and is a conscience.

Goddess is a highlight of my day, as a fine specimen like her comes but once in a blue moon, and tonight be the moon of blue. She seemed to be a very inquisitive young lady, as she would not begin to think of slowing down with her questions. Most of her questions were a derivative of three simple words… “Let me go.” Although she did ask for help, I do not think these screams were directed at me, much more at the rest of the world, in fact, everybody except for me. The screams and cries were loud, instinct played a large part for both parties, in many ways more than one.

She did eventually become quiet though. But it was too late for her then, as I forced this silence upon her in several thrusts of steel.

It is near impossible to believe that she was made of the mere mortal flesh that we are all composed of, but I have proof. I have seen this flesh, I have tasted the blood which wept from her open wounds. I have felt her innards, penetrated through many openings. I have seen her back, which bears no wings. I have proven that she was not an angel, she was not a Goddess. She was only human. Made of the mere mortal flesh that we are all made of.

There are angels among us though. And it is my job to find them, and make it known to the world of their existence. All that is needed is this simple test. A test, which divides angels and Goddesses away from ordinary human beings.

Tomorrow, I shall test another.