The Works

Angels on Earth

You don't notice, but across the room, an Angel watches as you laugh with your friends and make your way down the stairs — his attention completely encompassed by you. Enamoured. His friends nudge him, notice what he's looking at and begin to tease him, and soon he returns to talking to them in a group, but his eye wanders to find you every so often in the crowd.

A bell rings just three times, and the crowd's chatter quietens to a hush.

"If you could all make your way to the main gallery, for the speech from the Foreign Minister and the Angels' Governor," a woman announces.

The crowd slowly moves towards the gallery, not dissimilar to a herd of animals, a mixture of Angels and Humans. As the crowd disperses throughout the cavernous room, fresh flutes of champagne are given out and the overhead lights are dimmed, so the candlelights on the gothic chandeliers burn brighter, and the lights woven into the plants twinkle. You and your friends stay near the back, the main speakers projected on to big screens either side of the makeshift stage. To the right, the Angel that saw you before glances at you and smiles to himself, but you still don't notice.

While the speakers make their speeches, your mind wanders as you look at the paintings surrounding the main gallery, images of Divine Mythology — Zeus and the Olympians, the birth of Aphrodite, the Origin of the Milky Way, Perseus freeing Andromeda, the Abduction of Psyche by Eros, Chiron and Achilles, and so many more. You marvel at the scenes, and think that a momentous occasion like this will soon be immortalised on canvas with oils and inks. The merging of Humanity and Divinity, with no war, but simple acceptance and welcoming words. How long the world has strived for a relationship like this, and finally it has come. You smile to yourself, bringing your attention back to the room, just in time, as the room cheers for the accord. You and your friends cheers, champagne flutes ringing before you sip.

"Please feel free to explore the museum, it is open to all tonight. There are itineraries in all locations so you don't miss out on the planned festivities of the evening. Enjoy!" The same woman announces.

This time, most of the crowd disperses through the various doors while the rest linger in the main gallery. Humans and Angels strike up conversations, laughter ringing through the halls. You and your friends head for the buffet, spend some time filling your groaning stomachs until you're full to the brim. You start to feel a bit claustrophobic, want to get away, get some air.

"I'm going to go for wander round the museum, I'll see you guys later."

"Okay, give us a call if you need us!"

You smile, take a full flute of champagne from a waiter and weave through the mass before wandering down the emptier halls.

- - -

Finally, some peace and quiet, you can enjoy the artwork. Your eyes scan over each framed piece, wondering what the story behind each one is, why the artist chose to paint the images, where the motivation and inspiration came from. One painting covers a whole wall, you step back to view it in its full size, only to bump into someone.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" You exclaim as you turn around to face the victim of your clumsiness.

"Oh, no worries," they reply.

Your eyes finally focus — a young man, tousled brown hair, with freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. He wears an all-black suit.

"Oh...you're an...an..." You stutter, covering your mouth after your outburst of profanity.

"An Angel, yeah. We were told to wear black to contrast the colour of our wings," he answers nonchalantly and smiles, revealing slightly crooked teeth, brown eyes lighting up; little do you know, this is the same Angel that you captured the attention the moment you entered the museum. "I'm glad to see someone breaking the rules of the Humans."