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angels talked about the loneliest

times in their journeys.  one was

near tears.  she said that it

wasn’t one moment, but 

instead

they were many, like when she rambled about

at the base of a mountain where

 it rained often and

the buildings were

remade every few hundred

years.  ‘It was shocking and

no one told me that

i would cry with the destruction of

each edifice.  why didn’t anyone come

to comfort me? i was 

rescuing souls from the dead, but

it was only the birds that

could rise up. i was drinking

lemonade and waiting for whisky.  where was

the wine?  where were the wings of 

everyone else??’

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