Status: I seriously don't know when this will get written, but it will.
Bubbles
Deux
It was a typical Saturday night for me. I was sat in a different bar tonight, one I'd never been to before. I sat in my stool, slumped over the glass of Jack Daniels.
I was feeling slightly warm, a small buzz running through me but enough to satisfy me. The bar was pretty empty, except for a few other people, all of them looking as equally lonely as me.
You'd think that being a celestial life form was great, but no. Here I am in this crappy little bar on my own, moping and feeling sorry for myself because I got kicked out of heaven.
Heaven. That place seems so far away, so long ago.
Sometimes I wonder if it was ever real at all, but then I look at the giant protruding wings on my back and I'm reminded of it all.
"You alright there honey?"
I look up to see the middle aged waitress in front of me behind the bar, smiling. I just nod because my voice is probably slurred and my breath will stink of booze.
"Give me a shout if you need anything," she smiled at me again before wandering off.
I slumped further down in my stool, observing the amber liquid in my glass. That's one good thing about earth; JD. None of that in heaven.
I'd been on earth for nearly 70 years now. In heaven, there is no concept of time or space or anything. Just peace and comfort and bliss, surrounded by love and warmth. I don't know why I did it. Why I broke the rules and landed myself back here on earth.
Maybe I just missed him. Maybe I was bored.
Let me explain. I was born in 1914 and died in 1933 at the age of nineteen. I had AIDS and died alone on the streets. My illness was a result of my own reckless behaviour, but of course homosexuality was a monstrosity back then. Fuck, it wasn't even legal.
Turns out there's something after death after all and I ended up with a pair of wings and an enlightened soul. Whatever. I was stripped of my title as an angel when I broke the rules and contacted my brother. I was simply watching over him, looking after him, but that's not allowed. No family members.
So I ended up back here in 1943 and I've been here ever since, not ageing a single day from the moment of my death. I guess the only thing that's changed about me is the colour of my hair and the clothes I wear.
"Hey Frankie," the waitress beamed, untying her apron in a flash and clocking off. I didn't bother to turn and see the guy that had come to cover the next shift. I was too engrossed in the burn of the alcohol slipping down my throat.
My head span.
I wasn't quite sure how many drinks I'd had, but I didn't feel like I was about to pass out. Yet.
I did, however, feel like I'd been smashed in the face by a truck when I drunkenly fell off my seat and was faced with the most beautiful being I've ever seen, worryingly peering down at me as I lay there in a mess.
"Dude," the heart stoppingly perfect man said, "are you OK?"
I then threw up all over the stranger's shoes and the floor.
Wow. Nothing like making a good impression.
I was feeling slightly warm, a small buzz running through me but enough to satisfy me. The bar was pretty empty, except for a few other people, all of them looking as equally lonely as me.
You'd think that being a celestial life form was great, but no. Here I am in this crappy little bar on my own, moping and feeling sorry for myself because I got kicked out of heaven.
Heaven. That place seems so far away, so long ago.
Sometimes I wonder if it was ever real at all, but then I look at the giant protruding wings on my back and I'm reminded of it all.
"You alright there honey?"
I look up to see the middle aged waitress in front of me behind the bar, smiling. I just nod because my voice is probably slurred and my breath will stink of booze.
"Give me a shout if you need anything," she smiled at me again before wandering off.
I slumped further down in my stool, observing the amber liquid in my glass. That's one good thing about earth; JD. None of that in heaven.
I'd been on earth for nearly 70 years now. In heaven, there is no concept of time or space or anything. Just peace and comfort and bliss, surrounded by love and warmth. I don't know why I did it. Why I broke the rules and landed myself back here on earth.
Maybe I just missed him. Maybe I was bored.
Let me explain. I was born in 1914 and died in 1933 at the age of nineteen. I had AIDS and died alone on the streets. My illness was a result of my own reckless behaviour, but of course homosexuality was a monstrosity back then. Fuck, it wasn't even legal.
Turns out there's something after death after all and I ended up with a pair of wings and an enlightened soul. Whatever. I was stripped of my title as an angel when I broke the rules and contacted my brother. I was simply watching over him, looking after him, but that's not allowed. No family members.
So I ended up back here in 1943 and I've been here ever since, not ageing a single day from the moment of my death. I guess the only thing that's changed about me is the colour of my hair and the clothes I wear.
"Hey Frankie," the waitress beamed, untying her apron in a flash and clocking off. I didn't bother to turn and see the guy that had come to cover the next shift. I was too engrossed in the burn of the alcohol slipping down my throat.
My head span.
I wasn't quite sure how many drinks I'd had, but I didn't feel like I was about to pass out. Yet.
I did, however, feel like I'd been smashed in the face by a truck when I drunkenly fell off my seat and was faced with the most beautiful being I've ever seen, worryingly peering down at me as I lay there in a mess.
"Dude," the heart stoppingly perfect man said, "are you OK?"
I then threw up all over the stranger's shoes and the floor.
Wow. Nothing like making a good impression.