…First she was a speck, black against the sky, then she was an arrow balancing the breeze, finally, after measuring the hole in the wall of my room with her wing-span, she became an awesome, majestic weight, sprung upon my wrist…
“I know why The Devil is called a light-bearer, and why he’s said to inhabit infernal regions,” her bright eyes connected with mine as she stared, “hell on earth is really only a house hewn from stone, a hill-top mansion with an open roof-top, out onto the stars. Below ground in the mound of the hill are three expansive cellars, each of which is a winter month… “
… My Soul was back, her claws silently scratching my skin as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, preening…
“The blackness brandished by Lucifer like whiplash in a mean attempt to debase us is merely a ruse, a prelude to the greater glory still to come. The mock throne he chains you and your loved one to is regal and grand, as cardboard is precious. He encourages us to become horse-like just for the fun of it when about all we are really capable of mustering is the pin from a donkey’s tail.”
I had grown tired of arguing, of defending my position.
She never listened to my side of things.
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