Falling to Fight

Tears streamed down her face as she hacked off her wing, banishing herself from the golden courts, abandoning her place in the chorus. “Fear not,” she whispered, gathering her courage. She had a mission, a reason she had chosen to make the fall.

For centuries, she had watched as the Father’s people had turned their back on Him time and again,  but always He gave them another chance, welcomed them back. Even if she hadn’t understood His forgiveness, she had admired Him, respected His choices.

Then He had done the unthinkable, sent the Beloved to them, as a baby no less, defenseless, powerless, but she had done her duty, visited the hillside, sang the announcement, the “good tidings of great joy.” Then she had watched as He grew, fulfilling His destiny, angering the powerful, uprooting the establishment. And they had killed Him. It had been the Father’s plan, the only way to redeem creation, but seeing His anguish and pain, her heart had ached. She had begged to be allowed to go release him, screamed for Him to call on her, but all she could do was watch. When He returned to the throne, the whole choir had rejoiced. She had knelt and kissed His feet, so happy in that moment.

But look at them, the people He still loved, despite everything. The ones He wanted to save, to give all His gifts to.  Killing, raping, stealing. Ignoring the poor, the lonely, the imprisoned. Would they never learn? Satan was winning. It was time they join the battle, not watch. She needed to do more than deliver the odd message, give the occasional nudge to one of the believers. Only by leaving the kingdom could she become a fighter.

She sawed off her other wing and crumpled to the ground, the pain too much to bear. When she opened her eyes again, a handsome, dark-haired man was kneeling beside here. “You came,” she said. She wasn’t alone.

He nodded, holding her hand as he helped her stand, and gestured to the other five standing behind them. So, it would be a war. They were taking a stand. But how many of His people would be with them?


Dottie at Tink’s Place has a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge that I’m enjoying. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate you post your story on Friday – 350 words, give or take.


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