Ten thousand angels were swirling above her bed.  The flutter of
their wings softer than God's breath.
        White seraphim, and black-winged cherubim.  Flaxen-haired and
red-tailed. Among the assembly was the Son of First Light, Lucifer, swooping
down every so
often to murmur comfort.
        She considered letting one of the angels rest on her head, let the
angel's talons clutch at her ears, allow the angel to recite its secrets.
        The angel will speak to her of the greatest mysteries of life: God,
love,
the Resurrection, pain, joy, tears, evil, cruelty, disease, starvation,
inhumanity, war, death, death, death...but the angel will talk about love
above all.
        She considered letting one of the angels descend upon her and tear apart
her breast.  Two of them, it seemed, already had their claws under her skin.
        But the angels were swarming above like black flies come to deliver
salvation in small measures of madness.  And she did not dare let one of them
rest itself on her brow.  She will not trade her soul for these secrets of
deliverance.