I can feel his skin brushing against mine. My hand is a circle around his wrist, but not touching it. Not yet. My other hand points towards Heaven. There is a tension in my back as my wings begin to brace themselves, to lift this child and I into the air.
If only I could grasp his hand.
This moment in time is frozen by plaster. A cruel sculptor took away what connected this child to me. The child is looking up at me, yes. But should something move, something I cannot control, would he still look up to me? Would he follow the path I laid out to Salvation, or would he run in the grass and forget? Would he forget about me?
I only hope this tomb cracks, allowing me to finish the mission I started so long ago. I hope to show him the world from high in the clouds. I know there is something worthwhile to show him.
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A/N- This is for my Creative Thinking homework where we had to write about a piece of art and some "synthetic trigger" and I chose to write stories for each piece. The sculpture is called "Guardian Angel" and the trigger is "empathize." Ie- Imagine yourself in the statue.
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