[AGttA] 2.1: Loneliness

Continued from chapter 2.0, here.
Click here to read the entire story from the beginning.

Axiom 2: Gather supplies.

Journal, it's been close to a week now.  I know this, because I found a calendar covered in cute little pictures of kitties, and I've been crossing off the days on it.  Six crossed off days means that it's been almost a week.

I'm not sure what I'll do when I run past the end of December.  I don't think they're printing more calendars any longer.

Also, have I mentioned how much I hate eating beans?

[AGttA] 2.0: Supplies

Continued from chapter 1.2, here.

Axiom 2: Gather supplies.

Well, journal, it's two days later, and I'm feeling a little better about my situation.

Should I be calling you a journal?  What's the difference between a journal and a diary?  Ooh, I know, I'll look it up with my brand new DICTIONARY, right here!

Let's see...

Okay.  A journal is "a daily record of news and events of a personal nature; a diary."  Hmm.

Journal, maybe I'm going a little crazy from lack of human interaction, but at least my situation seems fairly good aside from that little issue.

[AGttA] 1.2: Coffee!

Continued from chapter 1.1, here.

Axiom 1: Remain calm.

I'd done it!  That's right, journal readers, whoever you may be - I managed to reach the Starbucks!

And even better?  The place was unlocked!

As I walked in through the front doors, I almost felt normal, at least for a second or two.  There was no Apocalypse, no end of the world happening outside these doors.  No, I was just strolling into my favorite coffee shop chain, here to pick up a boost of caffeine and brewed beans before heading back to work.

And for a moment, as I closed my eyes, I even smelled that classic scent of just slightly too burned coffee beans, the scent reminiscent of Starbucks everywhere.

But then I opened my eyes, and reality came crashing back in.

[AGttA] Chapter 1.1: Shelter

Continued from Chapter 1.0, here.

Axiom 1: Remain calm.

When I next opened my eyes, it took me a moment to remember why I was waking up in the back of an unmarked passenger van.  But as I lay back on the thin, scratchy carpet, I felt the wave of memories come rushing back to me.

The explosion at the mall.  The sound of people dying.  The angel, majestic and deadly, hovering in the center of the destruction.  That Furby's wide eyes before it exploded into shards of half-melted plastic.

I briefly wondered whether I might be able to find a Starbucks that still had some coffee.

[AGttA] Chapter 1: The Angel and the Furby

The Amateur's Guide to the Apocalypse

Axiom 1: Remain calm.  

Holy shit.  Oh my god.  Oh my dear, jumping, Jesus Christ of a god.

I'm going to die.

Yep, this is it.  Right now.  Totally going to die, any second now.  Better just close my eyes, accept my fate, and wait for it to be over.

...or not, maybe.

Hmm.

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What am I saying, of course you do.  Who in the world wouldn't like such an amazing sounding story?

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Seriously, give it a look.  It includes a plucky female heroine, a rather sarcastic angelic guardian, sneaking into Hell via the back entrance (located in the DMV), multiple celestial beings getting pepper-sprayed (it's nothing they don't deserve), people nearly vomiting from inter-planar travel, a climactic showdown for the fate of the entire Earth, and spiky demonic toilets.

And if that doesn't describe the perfect novel, well, I don't know what you want.

Planning: An Amateur's Guide to the Apocalypse [AGttA]

Author's note: I'm not yet done with my current novel (Apocalypse Before Coffee, coming soon!), but I'm already plotting out my next story.  I'm starting with a working title:

An Amateur's Guide to the Apocalypse

The book is going to be divided up into several chapters, each one built around a different "survival tip" for the Apocalypse, the Biblical end of the world!  The main story, however, will follow a single character, a young man, as he attempts to journal his continued existence as the world comes crumbling down around him.

Ten essential steps to surviving the Apocalypse:

1. Remain calm.  Take stock of your surroundings.
2. Gather supplies.
3. Search for other survivors.
4. Keep clear and open communications.
5. Learn as much as possible.
6. Formulate a long-term plan.
7. Remain positive.
8. Adapt to setbacks.
9. Don't lose hope.
10. Find what makes you happy.

The book will be split into ten smaller sections, each one based around one of these ten steps.  The rest of the story will be in the form of a journal, kept by the main character, Quinn, as he attempts to stick to his ten 'easy steps' - or, at least, survive!

Unfortunately for Quinn, surviving the Apocalypse isn't quite as easy as the ten-step survival guide makes it sound...

I plan on writing many of these chapters as blog posts, so stay tuned for more information - coming soon!

Taking the Piss

"Hold on.  No, hold on."  I didn't hear any objections coming from my companions as we stumbled out of the club, heading down to the parking garage, but I still felt the need to protest.  "Hold on!"

Finally, Jack glanced back at me.  "Dude, what is it?"

"I, uh, I need a minute."  I felt my bladder stretched to its limit, about to explode at any moment if I didn't relieve the pressure.  "Just hold on, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, I headed away from the group, up towards the tree line of the nearby woods.  I stumbled in past the first couple of rows of trees, but I couldn't make it much further before need overwhelmed me and I came to a stop, fumbling for the zipper on my jeans.

Feeling desperation rising along with the water level, I managed to tug my equipment out, aimed it hurriedly at a tree, and then sighed as I let go of that tension.  A powerful jet shot out, spraying against the tree and scattering droplets in all directions.

"Ohh, yes."  I closed my eyes, sagging back as I felt my bladder finally, mercifully, beginning to empty itself.  This felt better than sex!

"Um, excuse me??"

"No, You Take Him."

Gadriel was the first to arrive, and as he stepped into the mortal plane, he briefly exulted, glad to see that he'd beaten his fallen counterpart there, if only by a few fractions of an instant.

It wasn't until nearly a nanosecond later - practically five minutes, to Gadriel's perception - that Laxazz appeared, bursting forth from a red-tinged portal, his roar of satisfaction quickly shifting to a surly growl as he caught sight of Gadriel's glowing wings and folded arms.

"Oh.  You're already here," he grunted, practically each word accompanied by a droplet or two of spittle, thanks to his hulking fangs.  "Finishing fast, huh?"

Gadriel didn't know how this was meant to insult him, but he could recognize the tone, and chose to ignore it.  "Listen, I beat you, so I get first pick of the soul," he stated instead, letting one of his hands drop down to rest, ever so lightly, on his sheathed sword.  The thing didn't flame up in the sheath, but Laxazz knew how easily that blade could burn his flesh.

"Yeah, whatever," he grunted back.  "Let's just get this done so I can get on to the next harvest."

God and Lucifer switch places for a day....

Sometimes, Mephistopheles (Mephisto for short) reflected, souls arrived down at the Gates of Hell claiming that they could talk their way out of things, that this was all just one big misunderstanding.  These people were known to have "silver tongues."

But if these mere mortals had silver tongues, Mephisto's boss, Lucifer, possessed the singular golden tongue.

Mephisto had seen his boss charm them all.  He could talk a priest into becoming a killer, could convince the most selfless saint to turn his back on his fellow man.  Once, Mephisto swore, he'd seen his boss charm the very wings off of a butterfly.

And yet, right now, Lucifer was speechless...

The 'Doubt' Theory of God

The devil sitting across the table from me leaned back, one hand lazily twirling a finger about an inch above the brim of his coffee cup.  Even though there was nothing physically extending down into the cup itself, the liquid beneath his finger seemed to be moving along with his motions.

In front of me, both of my hands were wrapped around my own coffee cup.  Even after years of working here, of pouring coffee every day for the angels, both holy and fallen, that wandered in here, I still got nervous when talking to them.  Call it mortal nerves, maybe.  I waited for the devil in front of me to respond.

"See, here's my theory," the devil across from me finally started.  His voice was cultured, with only the very faintest little hint of a sneer giving any sort of allusion to his true nature.  "We all know that God exists, somewhere, in some form.  Right?  We," and he waved one hand around in a little circle to encompass the two of us, the coffee shop, the world in general, "wouldn't be here if He didn't exist."

What would you change?

The waitress glanced over at the bearded man in the corner.  He had been sitting here for several hours, now, and she was starting to feel a little concerned.

This wasn't the first time that a senior citizen had wandered into the coffee shop and refused to leave.  The waitress could still remember that incident a couple of months ago, when a man with Alzheimer's insisted that his daughter "would be along to pick me up any minute."

That hadn't been so bad - until the man stayed for another four hours, staring blankly out the window and shedding all over the floor.

The Angels: Trapped in Stories

As the angel's story came to a close, we felt as though we were returning back to our bodies, as if we'd drifted away, becoming insubstantial ghosts as we watched the angel's story unfold.

I was the first person to shake off that feeling.  "Ugh, that storytelling ability you all have is really annoying when you stop talking," I complained.  "Always feels like a hangover when we have to push our way back to reality..."

The Perfect Murder

"I gotta say, in terms of being a scumbag, you're actually doing really well."

I started at those words, spinning around and nearly jumping a foot in the air.  I could have sworn that I was alone!  There was no one else in the building at this hour - I knew that the janitors wouldn't be here for forty minutes, still, and I'd seen the last person leave the office a good two hours previously!

Yet nonetheless, there was a man sitting at one of the desks, two away from me, leaning back in the chair with his feet propped up on the faux wood in front of him.  From under his hat's brim, the man's eyes looked curiously dark.  Dressed in a dark charcoal suit, nearly black, and a black hat with a white ribbon around the brim, he grinned at me, briefly flashing his teeth.

"Wh-who are you?"  For a moment, I couldn't even find my own voice, but I managed to get the words out without sounding too strangled.  As I spoke, I managed to get a slight hold on my surprise.  "You don't belong here!"

Indeed, I didn't recognize him.  And considering that I'm the boss of this corporate division, I ought to recognize anyone who has access to the building.

"How did you get in here?" I continued, the shock in my voice finally starting to be replaced by anger.  "You know that you're trespassing, don't you?  I could call Security!"

Instead of answering my questions, the man waved one hand towards the open drawer at the desk in front of me.  "See, it's a really great plan," he said, not sounding especially concerned about my threat.  "Maybe if someone was really looking for it, they might find some trace, but no one's going to bother.  Well done!"

This man knew what I was doing?  No, he couldn't.  I stared back at him, blinking like a fish out of water, as I tried to readjust.  I had too many questions in my brain, all of them shouting at once and drowning each other out.

As I tried to find some sort of mental line to grab, the man stood up, swinging his legs down from on top of the desk and strolling over to me.  He reached past me, snagging one of the small candies out of the drawer open in front of me, unwrapping it with a surprisingly loud crinkle as the plastic came apart.

"I mean, unfortunate allergy plus sweet tooth is basically asking for disaster in the first place," the man continued, popping the candy up into the air with a flick of his thumb and catching it perfectly in his mouth.  "Everyone will assume that a couple peanut ones got mixed in at the factory.  Probably won't be an investigation at all."

Outwardly, I was still keeping it together, but inside, I could feel myself folding, collapsing.  This stranger, whoever he was, somehow knew all about my dark, twisted, evil plan!  He would turn me in, and I'd go to prison, and probably be forced to be some burly inmate's-

"Relax, I'm not going to turn you in!" the man called out, chuckling in a good-natured sort of manner.  He leaned over, clapping me on the back, and I nearly choked.  "Hell, I'm here to congratulate you!"

"Who are you?" I asked again, staring at him.  There was something really off-putting about his eyes, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.  "How do you know about my plan?"

Again, he chuckled at me, like a parent watching a small toddler fail to build a tower of blocks.  "Why, I'm a devil, of course!" he said, as if this should be obvious.

I stared at him.  "The Devil?"

"A devil," he corrected.  "Asmodeus is my actual name.  Not as big as good ol' Lucern himself, but pretty high up on the chain, if I do say so myself."  The man straightened his suit lapels, preening a bit.

I just stared back at him.  Devils were real?  And one of them was here talking to me?  "Are, are you taking me to Hell?" I asked him, wondering if I should run away.  Probably not.  If this devil-man, Asmodeus, could appear in a secure building, he could probably catch an out-of-shape mid-level executive.

"Of course not!" Asmodeus replied happily.  "But I've had my eye on you for a while, wondering how you were going to solve this dilemma.  Sleeping with your underlings is great while it's happening, but the endings are always just so messy." The man emphasized that last word, drawing it out almost like a hiss.

"And killing her like this, using her food allergy, well, it's really a stroke of brilliance!" he went on, full of energy, as if we were discussing a pep rally and not a murder.  "I'm just here to shake your hand, as one respectable evil-doer to another!"

And the devil stuck out his hand towards me, still grinning.

I stared back at him, not reaching out for that offered hand.  The man wasn't threatening, but his eyes were staring at me, dark and deep.  In fact, I realized as I stared back at him, his eyes were darker than any human's eyes ought to be.  There was no pupil, just two inky black irises gazing back at me.

After another minute, Asmodeus chuckled again, letting his hand fall back down to his side.  "Well, that's okay," he said.  "Hitler didn't like shaking hands either."

I looked down desperately at the candies that I was mixing in with the other treats in the woman's desk drawer.  "I could take the candies out?" I offered, my voice pleading.

But Asmodeus was shaking a finger at me, a naughty little "no-no" gesture.  "Doesn't work that way!" he said gaily.  "It's all about the intention.  You're already well and deep in it, now - might as well go through with it, so at least you don't have two problems!"

The man looked as if he wanted to say more, but a beeping from his pocket made him start, and he pulled out a sleek black rectangle.  "Oh, well, gotta go," he said, sounding only slightly crestfallen.  "Other sinners to see, you know.  But hey, good luck with the murder!"

There was no gout of flame.  I simply blinked, and he was gone.  I was alone in the office once again.

For a long time, I stood there, no thoughts moving in my head, just staring down at the drawer in front of me.

It had seemed like the perfect answer.  Hell, it still was.  One little candy, and the insufferable woman would be gone from my life.  No more blackmailing me for promotions, because in a moment of weakness I'd let her lead me up to her hotel room!

I could take the candies out, perhaps.  I'd mixed them in, but I could just throw out the whole lot.  It would be obvious that someone had been in her desk, but maybe it was just a janitor.  She wouldn't know the bullet she'd dodged.

Slowly, however, I pushed the drawer shut.

I knew that I was already a bad person.  I'd gone too far to recover, slipped too far down that alluring path.

Maybe I should have shaken his hand after all.

Welcome to Hell, here's your chain.

When I finally reached the front of the long line, I stepped up to the absurdly tall podium, tilting my head back to gaze up at the shadowy figure standing behind it and staring down at me.

The creature leaned forward, its head sliding down on a long neck to stare down at me.  I felt like a guilty schoolboy, pinned in place by a forbidding mistress.

Most schoolmarms, however, don't have eyes filled with flames, giant venom-dripping spikes sticking out in a ruff around their heads, or scaly grasping fingers that end in terrifyingly long and sticky claws...

The Priest in the Coffee Shop, Part II

Continued from here.

It took a good, strongly brewed fresh cup of coffee being waved under his nose, but eventually the priest came around, his eyelids flickering as he regained consciousness.  I had the pretense to keep my hand ready to clamp over his mouth if he started screaming.

The man didn't scream, but his eyes shot wide open as his memory booted back up, and he shot upright in the booth and twisted his head around.  I watched, feeling a little guilty, as he stared at the various angels, devils, and other celestial beings in the shop, his eyes looking as though they were about to explode out of his head.

After all, I had been the one who shattered his veil of self-imposed ignorance.

A Man Walks Into a Coffee Shop...

When I glanced up from the iPad mounted in front of my counter as an ersatz cash register, I was surprised to notice two things about the man standing in front of me, in the following order:

First, he was not wearing a flowing white robe.  There was nothing hovering in the air above his head - especially nothing producing any sort of a glow or luminescence.  He wore a belt around his hips, but there were no bladed weapons slid into it, and he wore very practical black shoes instead of golden sandals.  Instead of a gold coin, he was holding a credit card loosely between two fingers.

Second, the man wore the clerical collar of a priest around his neck...

Angels planning post (behind the scenes, novel 1)

One of my goals for 2015: Write 3 novels.

One of these novels will be in November for NaNoWriMo.

Given as how I will be totally burned out by December, however, the other two will have to come out earlier.  Fortunately, since November is the eleventh month, this still gives me five months per novel,, as long as I also spend a bit of time fleshing out the outline for NNWM.

Novel 1?  I've always wanted to publish all of my stories about angels; selfishly, I believe that these stories include some of my better writing, as well as a few rare moments when my humor actually seems to work.

I even have a cover in mind (not that I'm sharing that yet!).

The issue, however, is that most of these stories are quite disconnected.  Here are the stories that I have so far, in reverse order:

1. Tough Love - a man on a blind date instead meets his guardian angel, who turns out to be a bit of an asshole.
2. Do Computers Speak to Angels? - an angel tries to bring a computer into a coffee shop.  It doesn't work.
3. D'oops'day - the Apocalypse was supposed to be yesterday.  Fortunately, no one remembered.
4. Hell's IT (2 posts) - turns out devils aren't so good with technology either.
5. Lucifer's Gift (3 posts) - a dream in which the devil appears to hand out the apple of sin.  It doesn't end up going quite as planned.
6. Welcome to Heaven!  Now What (unfinished) - Heaven turns out to be rather dull.
7. Blake Meets Ophiel (Ophiel series) - short excerpt of a human meeting an angel.
8. Blake and Lucifer Have Dinner - segment where human (from #7, above) has dinner with Lucifer.
9. Guarding the Borders of Heaven - Angels are vigilant border guards.
10. The Vault Theft - chapter 1 of an earlier attempt at this novel that I abandoned.
11. Ambition (2 posts) - a devil steals a man's ambition, and dares an angel to figure out what's missing.
12. Azrael & Mephistopheles (2 posts) - the yearly meeting of an archangel and devil.
13. In A Perfect World... - a guardian angel explains why the "perfect world" didn't work.
14. Cold Blooded Humans? - a guardian angel (#13) points out that cold-blooded humans were an early experiment.
15. The Angel On the Train (2 posts) - everyone has bad days - even angels.
16. Barista To The Angels (2 posts) - a coffee shop begins getting unexpected visitors.
17. Heavenly Grounds - initial write, narrator interjecting with history, of #16.
18. The Angel at the Press Conference - Fear not!  God exists, he's just off somewhere on vacation!  Probably.
19. Mis-Filing Has Serious Consequences... (2 posts, unconcluded) - an angel and a devil chase after a stolen tablet.
20. Calcifer on Karma (2 posts) - Calcifer explains how karma works.
21. The Roman Army Upgrade - Calcifer tries to teach the Romans to ride a bike.
22. Calcifer's Intrusion (2 posts) - Calcifer's favorite coffee shop is invaded by an angel!  This is his space!
23. Calcifer's Haunt (2 posts) - Calcifer proves that he's a devil to coffee shop girl.
24. Soul Harvesting Difficulties - a reaper demon pops up in a supermarket, determined to gather souls.  The visitors are determined to mow him down with carts to get to their deals.
25. Lucern's Little Whoopsie (2 posts) - Lucern misses one teeny, tiny little asteroid.  No big deal.
26. The Coffee Shop of Vice and Iniquity - the post that started it all!  Is a soul worth a grande latte?

26 posts, with lots of raw material.  Now, to organize it into some semblance of a story.  That's the challenge...

The Angels: Tough Love

Sitting at the table in the cafe, I did my best to take slow, full breaths.  Don't hyperventilate, I told myself.  This isn't a huge deal.

I mean, I was finally meeting, in person, the girl I'd been chatting with online for six months, and this was my only chance to make a good first impression in person.  This was the girl that I'd been pinning all my hopes on, that I was pretty sure I was falling in love with.  And now, I was going to see her in person for the very first time.

But hey, no pressure.

I looked down at the empty table.  Should I order a cup of coffee?  I felt jittery already, but I also wanted something in my hands, something that I could sip at to take my mind off of the rapidly approaching future.  I couldn't even decide this.

The door to the cafe opened with a jingle, and I glanced up.  Was this her?  She'd said that she was going to wear a red bobble hat, she'd messaged me.

But no, the man who stepped inside the cafe wasn't wearing anything on his hair.  He was, however, wearing what looked vaguely like a cross between a robe and a toga, all white cloth.  I frowned a little.  That was strange.

But the strangeness didn't stop there.

The stranger glanced around after stepping inside, spotted me, and gave me a head nod, as if he recognized me!  As I watched in shock and confusion, he cut his way through all the tables towards me, his eyes focused on me.

"Ugh, you look ridiculous," the man said to me as he plopped down in the chair opposite mine at the little table.

I blinked, feeling totally confused.  I didn't even know this man, although something about him looked slightly familiar.  I had that sort of impression, like when I see someone who reminds me of a dream.  "Um, excuse me, but I'm waiting for someone," I said, wishing that this guy would vanish.

"Yeah, yeah, Juliette sixteen, or whatever," the man replied to me, waving one hand vaguely in my direction in a brush-off gesture.  "As if that's going to work out."

Who the hell was this?  And how did he know the screen name of my date?  "Excuse me," I said again, this time trying to inject some more strength into my voice.  "But really, I don't know you, and I am meeting-"

"The whole thing's a crock of shit, you know that?" the man interrupted me, turning to stare at me.  As his eyes locked on mine, I felt my voice cut off.  I'd never seen such brilliant blue irises before.  "I mean, I was doing just fine smiting evil, all of that, and then next thing I know, I'm pulled and stuck in the guardian division!  And now I'm burdened with you sad sack, as if I didn't have enough problems of my own."

What?  "Hey, I'm not a-"

"Yes, you are," the man replied, waving a hand at me again.  "I mean, come on, dude!  Just look at you.  Hey, can we get some service over here?" he called out to a nearby waitress, snapping his fingers in the air.  What a jerk, I thought to myself.

The waitress turned and made her way over, a frown on her face as she glared at the man who had summoned her in such a degrading manner.  "What?" she asked, shifting her glare back and forth.  I felt a bit hurt.  I hadn't done anything wrong!  I didn't even know this guy!

"Cup of coffee, seven creams, seven sugars," the guy told her.  He immediately returned his attention back to me, acting as if the waitress had ceased to exist.  "But seriously, just look at you!  You're what, twenty-nine now?"

"Twenty-eight!" I replied, not sure why I was answering him.

"And you've got a dead-end job, no girl, and no friends," the man picked up as if I hadn't spoken.  "Seriously, dude.  You're about two more cats away from getting the Lifetime Loser award."

"Who the hell are you to-"

The man flapped his hand again at me, rolling his eyes.  "And not especially fast on the uptake, either," he said.  "Here, maybe this will finally make it clear."

The man bent over, rustling around in a pocket of his robe, as I felt my hands squeeze into fists.  How dare this stranger come over and just start insulting me-

But then, the man pulled something out of his pocket, and I felt my mouth drop open as my thoughts cut off mid-train.

He was holding a glowing ring, about the size of a dessert plate.

And as I watched, he hung this glowing ring in thin air over his head, where it bobbed up and down, supported by nothing.

I couldn't speak, but still tried.  "You're- you're a- you're an-" I tried, stammering.

"Yeah, yeah, angel, holy power, all that shit," the man replied, rolling his eyes again.  "Where the hell is that coffee?"

As I blinked and felt my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the man's coffee arrived, the waitress slamming it down on the table so hard it spilled a little.  "There," she told him, before stalking off.

Finally, I managed to regain my voice.  "You're an angel!  But I didn't think that they existed!" I got out.

"Well, they do," the man told me, taking a sip of his coffee and grimacing.  "Ugh, spit.  Like I wouldn't notice.  And for whatever sins I committed, I'm now stuck as yours."

"Mine?  Like a guardian angel?"

"Yeah, just like that," he said, taking another sip.  "And ordinarily I'd just let you wallow in sadness, but you're about to make a major screw-up, so I figured I was obligated to step in."

"Screw-up?"  I had no idea what the man was talking about.  "Wait, am I going to bomb this date?"

The angel's eyes widened slightly at me.  "Bomb it?" he repeated incredulously.  "Hell no!  You're bombing it right now by showing up!  You ought to be running away as fast as those wimpy little legs of yours can carry you!"

"This is a mistake?"

The angel glared at me.  "And this is why I hate being a guardian," he announced to the world in general.  "Yes, it's a mistake!  She's crazy!  Cuckoo!  A freaking loony!"  He raised one finger up and swirled it around his head to illustrate what he meant.

"What?  But she seems perfect!"  I didn't know what to think.  On one hand, this guy had a halo, that was true.  But I'd been chatting with Juliette for months!

The angel held up fingers as he ticked off reasons.  "She's got just as dead-end of a job as you," he called off.  "She's got three cats.  Seriously, three.  She's gonna be as crazy as her mom is, and will drag you into the fights.  And she's really just trying to get you to buy her stuff."

I shook my head.  "I can't believe it!" I repeated, feeling flabbergasted.

The angel sighed, but then stood up.  "Fine, fine," he said.  "Here, come on.  We're going out to find you a real girl."

Not sure what to think, I let the other man pull me up to his feet.  "Hey, pay for my coffee," he told me, heading for the door.  "I'll meet you outside."

I did as he requested, handing a few dollars over to the stone-faced waitress and whispering "sorry" to her.  I then hurried out of the cafe, trying to catch up to the man in the robe, now standing outside on the sidewalk and glaring around at the world as if it had personally pissed him off.

"Come on, now," he grunted at me, starting off down the sidewalk.  "If I'm stuck with you as my client, I'll at least try and solve some of these problems quickly.  The sooner I get you back on track, the sooner I can get out of here and back to smiting, where I belong."

I did as he requested, tagging along a half-step behind him, but I still felt as though I had to say something.  "You're a real asshole, you know that?" I told the angel, trying to keep up.

He just shrugged and kept walking.  "At least I get things done," he told me.  "Now, come on!  And really, we ought to get you a dog.  Girls like a guy with a dog."

As we walked away from the cafe, a short, pale, bespectacled girl with a furry red bobble cap made her way towards the door, trying to brush cat hair off of her hand-knit sweater and furtively glancing around, as if she thought someone was following her, sweat stains marking her armpits...

Do Computers Speak to Angels?

As soon as I saw the angel stagger into the shop, his wide grin almost totally hidden behind the huge, bulky computer monitor in his arms, I had to hold in a sigh.  This wasn't going to be fun...