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Free Fall
by Julie Michaelson
07/03/13
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Make haste,
O God,
to deliver me;
make haste
to help me,
O Lord.
[Psalm 70:1]
******************
Time: This afternoon.
Place: In the 2nd Layer
of the Heavenlies, over Earth.
Characters: Angel Sylvestor,
Darth Demon, and Angel Brutus-
Belivarius.
______________________
Brutus and Sylvestor are on their
way back to Heaven after making two scheduled Prayer-Basket
pickups, from the Middle-Southern
Quadrant of the Western Land
in the Land to the West*. Sylvestor, the smaller and plumper
of the two, is covered wing-to-bare-
toe in Calamine lotion and Off Mosquito Spray.

Sylvestor is the Assigned
Permanent Mail Carrier
for the Middle-Southern Quadrant
in the Land to the West, and this
particular time of year in that Quadrant is unbearably hot, hot and
humid, and the busy-busy time for
nats, mosquitos, fire ants, scorpians,
and hornets.

For some reason the little mosquito-
demonites don't both big Brutus-Belivarius. But, they particularly love to pester his Mail Buddy; hence it's a particularly miserable flight back and forth for the smaller, plumper angel.

Brutus, being a true buddy, has
been to see The Lord several times
to plead in favor of poor Sylvestor
being transferred to a more Northern-Quadrant, but to no avail:
the Lord wants Sylvestor to get off
his cloud, more, and involve himself
in routine activity in preparation for
the Coming Rapture, and Tribulation-
Period on Earth.

This particular afternoon
has been hotter and buggier than ever, and both angels are puffing and sweating as they fly their way through the first and second Heavenly layers, toward the Third Layer and Home. Brutus' wings are
big and muscle-bound: he has spent
several millenia taking care of the
Archangel Michael's handsome stallion, 'Majestic'. Sylvestor's wings are small, flabby, and more attuned to napping on a dorm-cloud, and watching cartoons while snacking on potato chips, ice cream, and chocolate-covered pretzels.

Sylvestor takes another sip of ice
water from his knapsack. He's not
a good long-distance flyer: his wings
are making treading-movements like
a human cub-scout learning to swim in deep water.
Puff. Puff.
"How much farther...... IS IT,
BRUTE?"

"Eh.........."
Brutus looks about; then he pulls
out a little Heavenlies-Compass from
his big knapsack. He squints at it,
and then points it: hither and yonder.
"Eh............just about.....6 more
MILES**, I think!"

Puff. Puff.
"You're KIDDIN!"

"Uh, UH!"
Brutus looks over at his mail-buddy,
worriedly; on their last trip he had
to carry poor Sylvestor, Sylvestor's
knapsack, and Sylvestor's Prayer-
Baskets, on his back,
between his wings, for the last five
and a half miles. He didn't mind at
all, but The Lord said that next
time Sylvestor was going to have to
push himself harder to get in shape.
"Do ya wanna take a.....REST,
Sylvestor?"
Brutus points a big muscle-bound arm
straight ahead.
"There's a good CLOUD.....over there! SEE it? It's big enough
for the BOTH of us!"

Puff. Puff.
"Yeah! OKAY!
YOU lead the WAY!"

"Okay! But.....we can't stay TOO
long! We gotta get these Prayer-
Baskets back to the Throne Room
by four-thirty,
Earth-time,
......OKAY?"

Puff. Puff.
"Oh, yeah! SURE! You BET!"

"OKAY!"
Brutus pushes on his right wing,
like a driver would on his gas-pedal,
and moves ahead of his mail-buddy,
leading the way. He makes his
halo go blink-blink-blink, in order to
give Sylvestor plenty of visual-headway.

Brutus is a really good flyer.

The two angels are climbing their
way toward the comfortable-looking
cloud, when.........
suddenly,
all hell breaks loose.

Sylvestor's little, whiny voice
yells from behind.
"HELP, BRUTUS!
.............HELP!"

Brutus screeches on his wings with
expertise and finese,
and quickly turns his big head around.
"Uh, OH!
HEY.........!
What the......HECK!"

There, jumping up and down
on poor little Sylvestor's dimly-lit
haloe'd head, and skinny wings are Darth Demon and his demonite buddy, R2D2.

Darth looks like a green-skinned
rhinosaurus with huge, twisted horns
and big slimy mouth full of bright
green teeth.

R2D2 resembles a baby rhinosaurus;
his skin is bright orange and yellow, and his horns are much smaller. His
long orange tongue, however, emits a slimy-smell and nasty-tasting venom that....upon contact......creates
a big itchy welt that doesn't go
away for several Earth-weeks.

"HEY!
GET AWAY........ from.... HIM!"
Brutus yells through the suddenly
heavy fog, and cloud cover. He has
strong powerful wings, but Darth's
heavy stale breath has kicked up a
storm and begins blowing towards Brutus and pushing him back:
back away from his friend, sort of
like a wave from the North Atlantic
pulling a sunbather on a raft: farther and farther from shore.

The Second-Layer over Earth is
particularly known for its demonic-
disturbances, sort of like Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, is known for its bad storms along the Eastern
Coast of U.S.A.

That's why Prayer-Basket-Mail-Carriers always
use the buddy-system; even the
best swimmer can get into trouble,
really fast, when alone.

"HELP, BRUTUS!
HELP!
I think I'm losing a......WING!"

Brutus, battling the heavy-hot demonite-winds with all his bewinged
might, watches helplessly
as Darth and R2D2 continue
pulling, and yanking on Sylvestor's left, weaker wing.

Angels' wings are arched, just like
human feet have arches. Some angels, just like some unfortunate
humans, have flat wings with little
or no arches.

Sylvestor's right wing has a little
bit of an arch. His left wing, however, has no arch at all.

Darth and his buddy know this, and
whenever they can, take advantage.
Usually it's hard to jump Sylvestor
since he's never without a buddy,
and wears a wing-brace on his left
wing. This time, however, Sylvestor
had forgotten to slip on his wing-brace in all his hurrying.

And, Darth and R2D2 had been
spying on the two Mail-Angels ever
since they had left Earth: hiding
behind garbage-clouds, and little dust-devils. Licking their snouts,
and scurrying about: tip-toeing from
cloud-to-cloud-to-cloud, the two
demons stealthily followed Brutus
and Sylvestor all the way up, just
waiting for the opportune moment
when they could get Sylvestor alone
and separated from his huge, strong
buddy.

"HA, HA, HA!"
Darth snickered and snorted heavily.

"YEAH!
HA!
HA!"
R2D2 snickered and snorted too:
helping his friend pull and yank
on Sylvestor's weaker wing.

"HELP!
BRUTUS!
CALL FOR ARCHANGEL MICHAEL!
I'm..............
FALLING..........!"

{To be continued.}
*****************
I am poor
and needy......
Thou art
my help
and
my deliverer;
O Lord.
Make
no tarrying.
[Psalm 70:5]

*Southeast Texas, USA.
**Six miles straight upwards.
Mount Everest is only 30,000 feet high.

Copyright 2013.

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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