Sway

One morning when the station had sunk below the clouds, after dumping his LUCID over the railing of the promenade, Indigo raced around the bend and came upon a strange sight. He stopped abruptly and his boots screeched along the deck. He gaped.

A stranger perched on top of the railing, clutching it with both hands and the curled toes of its bare feet. Two enormous wings spread wide behind it, speckled feathers tousled by the wind. Its auburn hair was gathered in a long braid that fell across one bare shoulder. It didn’t wear coveralls like everyone else on the station, whether white or bright colors. Its arms and shoulders, knees and legs were bare, and the rest was covered by waxy green leaves woven together into a beautiful corset and skirt. Had it come from below?

Lightning flashed in the dark clouds above. The angel, if that’s what it was, started from its perch. It stood on the railing, wings outstretched, and turned to look at the sky. And when the thunder sounded, the angel jumped under the shelter of the promenade and retreated inside through a shattered Panoramic, its wings folding neatly against its back.

Indigo followed it inside. The angel walked carefully across the floor, avoiding the shattered glass with its bare feet. As the glass crunched under the boots of Indigo’s ghost suit, the angel turned and saw him. They both froze, caught.