The Archangel

All that could be heard was the nighttime hustle and bustle of car engines and the friction of tires against cement from above. Michael led the boy off of the sidewalk up the ramp towards the abutment that held the bridge up. There lied a man.

“Who is this?” shrugged the boy.

“Look closer” Michael insisted.

The young man’s eyes widened in shock. He began to angrily strike the man.

“That bitch!” he screamed. As he tried to batter the man, his hand and foot did not harm the man but instead phased through him. The boy looked at Michael in disbelief.

“So you know this man who once caused you so much pain. And that pain is still evident in your decision making.” said Michael as a tear fell from the boys eye. He remembered the embarrassment, the physical pain and mental torture that the guy caused him since the Fifth Grade.

“In 2035 A.D. this is a man who is a beggar, under a bridge and at the mercy of pedestrians and motorists. Don’t give your power to him because it doesn't belong to him!” Michael encouraged.

The boy turned around and furiously began down the ramp and within the flicker of an eye, it suddenly became dark. "Where the hell are we now?"

"Don't you love the view down here?" Michael interceded.

"I can't see"

Michael's hand lit on fire.

"Can you see now?" Michael asked. The boy .

"We're underground in your burial vault. Interestingly, graveyards are the richest places on Earth. When folks die, their ideas and creativity come here with them. You're so young, you ain't worth fifty grand..."

"Wait, so you're saying I'm dead?" interrupted the boy.

"I don't know, are you?" asked Michael.

Michael then ascended to a blinding light and then nothing.The boy awoke with the pills still coaxingly laying in his hand. Sparing his own life, he reluctantly threw them away.