Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 5

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The eleven angels landed as one, walking forward in formation. Higher Angel Seth led the procession with, the other warrior Angels flanking him on either side. Seth felt their combined power part the very air, their quarry, the being that had been a whisper, a shadow, a liability that could not be allowed to exist, was inside the modest two-story building. After searching for years, a programme he had heard of only in passing had yielded the secrets he needed.

Higher Angel Seth glanced up at the Galactic Confessionary and had to smile. She had been hiding in more than plain sight, casting her voice on the very radio waves.

They reached the entrance and paused.

‘I will go in alone, surround the building, no one leaves,’ He thought to the others.

They all nodded.

‘Make sure the device is active so no one can teleport out.’ Then he turned and directed his thoughts only to his second in command; Warrior Angel Cassandra. ‘If I don’t come out in thirty-five minutes, get reinforcements, do not enter without another higher angel.’

She nodded once.

Satisfied he entered the building alone.

With a thought he sent every living person inside the confessionary into a deep slumber except of course the one he sought. She was seated inside the booth, her heart rate a little elevated her thoughts difficult to decipher. Seth, like all angels could read people’s thoughts, but his special ability gave him a skill above others because he could also hear the thoughts of his fellow angels whether they liked it or not, only the strongest minds could keep him out and it seemed that the half-breed was amongst that exclusive club that could keep him out.

Seth walked into the booth and sat down, hiding his wings from view.

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Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 4 ⅔

Yin and Yang

“Have you…have you come to tell your story?” She asked uncertainly, “you know what I am?”

“Yes, and I also know who you are, a woman who keeps her identity a secret even from friends, fear not, your secrets are still your own to tell, should you ever feel a need.” He paused as he heard her exhale, “shall I begin?”

“Are you sure about this?” She asked genuinely concerned.

Zachary smiled. “Yes, and even if I was not, your presence alone would compel the truth from my lips.” He felt her confusion and conscious of the fact that she had probably never met or even spoken to another angel before he elaborated. “All angels have similar abilities, healing, speed, and strength but there are a gifted few who have more, such as yourself, you can compel the truth from people with your mere presence alone. Not everyone who walks through these doors always has the intention of telling you the truth, like the Ganzarian, their keen instincts is not an ability many Ganzarian admit to.”

“I…erm, I did not know this.” She said on a shaky voice.

“Now you do,” he said softly.

Zachary cleared his throat.

“My name,” he began at a normal volume in the universal language, “I am an angel, yes, I hear some of you ask, it is me, the angel that has fallen, swiftly, steeply into love with a being that is not of my kind,” Zachary paused again, he could hear the elevated heartbeats of the six members of staff that worked at the confessionary and he wondered if he should continue.

“I did not mean to, what I mean to say is that I did not purposely fall. I felt, like all angels do, myself immune to such mortal emotions. I had several hundred charges I looked after, good mortals for the most part, it was my job. Of course I had favourites, mortals I would spend more time with, talk to even, but I reasoned that a few of them had no one else to listen to their sorrow, and it worked once unburdened it made it easier for them to make friends of their own kind. But,” Zachary paused as he smiled remembering the surprise and even discontent he had felt when he realised what had happened, “I did not realise my heart had been keeping secrets, that it had singled out one of these mortals I called my favourites and had chosen her to be the object of my very existence.”

Short Story: My Husband, his Mistress and I part 14

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I debate what to do, I can hardly sleep in the Yaris, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Just as I’ve finally decided to go and check-in Marcus walks back outside on his phone.

I hear my own phone ring and hastily answer it.

“Hey, Viv, how’s Yasmin?” He says, looking tense.

“O hi Marcus,” I whisper, “everyone is fine.”

“Why are you whispering?” He says.

“O you know the kids are sleeping?”

“At seven in the evening, don’t tell me you spiked the drinks again.” He says laughing.

I watch him laugh and he looks so carefree, so unlike how he is at home with me.

“That happened one time, and it can’t be proven in court.” I defend.

He laughs harder and I feel myself start to smile at his genuine amusement.

“Anyway erm,” his humour leaves and I see him shifting from one foot to the other, “very busy here, still working.”

“O yeah, well work hard.” I say. “I should let you get back to it, see you later my darling,”

But for some reason he tenses and a look of annoyance flashes across his features.

“O Okay, say hi to my favourite two terrors,”

“Will do, bye,” I say and click the phone off before he can respond.

I watch him carefully this is the fourth time I’ve noticed that he has tensed when I’ve said; ‘darling’, which is strange since he started the trend. He just stares at the phone in his hand for a few moments.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 11

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I wait an hour before I drive to his work place.

I find out a few things about his Mistress also known as Michaela, originally form Columbia and is a certified paralegal. Amazing what a few placed calls will do.

Out with my trustee binoculars again.

Nothing happens in the morning.

Nothing happens in the afternoon.

By the early evening I’m wondering if I didn’t just make the whole thing up in my head. When my husband starts packing away for the evening I’m almost convinced that the whole thing was a vivid hallucination brought on by way too much day time TV.

Marcus switches his light off and I start my engine vaguely wondering what I’m going to tell him about dinner not being ready on time.

Michaela walks into his office – all killer curves and high heels. I roll my eyes but inside I’m excited.

She walks forward and says something to him – he shakes his head. I make a mental note to buy some spy gear from eBay. Because yeah.

They have a back and forth with him shaking his head the entire time. He walks away and I make a frustrated sound in the back of my throat – but then he puts his hand on her arm and a look passes between them before he turns and walks out.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 9

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I’m buzzing – I feel like a live wire set to explode. I usually get up twenty minutes before Marcus, but today, well today was different. I’ve been up for an hour and even though I haven’t hadn’t had a single drop of coffee; I’ll probably need to be peeled off the ceiling.

I finally hear Marcus get out of the bathroom and a bolt of electricity shimmers through me. I’ve just finished his breakfast despite being up for so long – he likes his meals warm. I quickly glance at my reflection in the mirror – my eyes are too bright and my smile is too big but I can’t help it. Last night Marcus fell asleep on the couch almost as soon as he had walked in – so uncharacteristic that I stared at him for a good twenty minutes.

“Morning Vivian,” a deep voice says.

I bite my lip, and plant a worried expression on my face before turning to face him.

The guilt in his eyes is too much and I feel my temper flare – he can’t cope to the truth already!

“Here,” I say thrusting a shake in front of his face, “I made you a special shake; it will clear your head.”

He sits reluctantly.

“Thank you,” Marcus says after he’s taken a healthy drink from his shake. “That really actually helps, you didn’t have to.”

Again with the guilt in his eyes.

Sensing he’s about to confess, I quickly say.

“Of course, I really want you to win that big case you’ve been working on.”

“O…right of course,” he says putting the shake to his lips once more.

“You certainly need your energy after yesterday’s activities.”

“What?” He says alarmed.

“The party,” I clarify innocently.

“O yeah erm yeah of course.” He clears his throat and his eyes look worried. “Listen about last night –”

Shit! I’ve pushed him too far.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 8

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I smile as I put the phone down; Marcus stares at his phone for a moment before he glances back towards his office where the woman is still under the table. John has wondered off and I wonder what my husband is about to do. But then he calls a cab home. I wait expecting something else, maybe a passionate goodbye, a guilty goodbye, anything. But my husband grabs his briefcase from the floor and stumbles downstairs where a cab has just pulled up. I look back upstairs, the woman is still under the table, and just as I’m about to give up and follow my husband who has just gotten into the cab home, the woman gets up slowly, and looks out the window, she looks after my husband, and I catch the look in her eyes and smile relived. This isn’t over.