John Peter Sloan

autore

Pubblichiamo in anteprima alcuni brani inediti de "Diaries of the Angels" (Romantic comedy) di John Peter Sloan

"We are all part of an eternal plan. All actors on an ancient stage. This fragile, physical existence is temporary...a stage of preparation. Let me tell you for what..."

In the beginning…

Jehovah looked down to the patterned floor, his broad back to the door, and waited.

The door behind him flew open but the big angel didn’t flinch.

Words came in a low hiss.

“You have defiled my name, set brothers and sisters against me, you have made me an outcast!!” the outburst reverberated around the walls.

Jehovah didn’t move.

“I know why you’re doing this you know” the agony in the voice shook and choked the words.
“It’s ‘the plan’ isn’t it?, won’t work without an adversary, an enemy, won’t work without a fight!”
The last two words were hissed like a multitude of snakes.

Jehovah remained fixed, silent.

“So it is to be my demise that empowers you, my expulsion that brings you your robes to lead and spears for war” Jehovah felt a steady hand touch his shoulder and dry lips brush his ear.

Lucifer’s voice was now calm and determined. Almost whispering he warned:
“For what it’s worth I think you have made a terrible choice, for as much as I loved you I will now despise you. I will match it pound for pound. And I loved you a great deal”
Jehovah closed his eyes but listened.

Lucifer, unexpectedly kissed his old teacher’s wet brow, let a tear spill down his cheek and then abruptly turned and made for the door.

Once on the balcony he raised his arms and settled the bustling, agitated crowds of angels before him.

There was silence.

He studied them, with gestures he implored them, he reached out to them with his swollen eyes.
“You must make a choice” he shouted, voice broken and hoarse, “and you must make it now!”
Mercabor stepped forward from the crowd and the massive angel bowed.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, thankful and relieved.

As Mercabor rose and turned to the others, a beautiful female angel at the front of the crowd dropped to her knees.

Her scream was desperate and piercing “Nooo!!, Nooooooooo!!”

As the wails of pain went on, angels cried, moved and separated.

The general human perception of Hell is usually a vision of tormented souls screaming and fleeing from rolls of hot, fierce flames, the damned, forever being prodded and punctured by sharp forks wielded by little red demons for all of eternity.

This may well have been the case in the beginning, but Lucifer has long since moved on and though complete darkness was his original choice of colour scheme, he found it made things very hard to find.

Hell nowadays is like a large, modern suburban town boasting a pretty impressive heating system (which makes the abode of the damned slightly muggy, but hardly unbearable). Each soul is numbered and carries out a long list of hellish chores deemed to befit their crimes.

The thing is, Lucifer actually quite likes bad people. In fact, every Friday night he treats them to a bucket of fried chicken and a game of bingo (though most avoid the Karaoke nights).

The general perception of heaven however is of harps, clouds and praying a lot.

This is exactly how it is.