An angel huh, a real angel?

That was the first question I asked her. She was blonde, and
all white. Exactly as I would imagine her, or as any other
silly TV movie would show her. I am young, what did you
expect?!
Her face was very nice. Not something you will never forget,
that's not the point of angels, but something pleasant to
look at.

She looked at me, in a way that my mom can look at me, and
simply said: "You are here. You are not dead, you are
asleep. You will wake up soon, and remember me as a sweet
memory but before, let me tell you something small".

Her voice. I can still remember her voice. It was like a
vessel sound. Not a human voice, but yet with words. A lot
of them.
I hate people who talk to slow, but some people just talk
too fast. She was one of them.

I love my mother, and I love music, and white is a cool
color, but I have something against angels coming into my
dreams. I like them black. Not as a color or a mood, but as
a feeling. You wake up relaxed, as your mind was free of
worries for a while, was shut down.
When that annoying angel came she interrupted that amazing
feeling, or numbness should I say? I didn't have anything to
tell her, I wanted her out of my head, and the sooner, the
better. Black, dark, no thinking, no listening, no paying
attention. That's all I could think of. And here was the
paradox. I didn't want to think, and that's all I could
think of.

I didn't say a word. She wasn't that interesting, and I just
wanted to sleep. OK - something small you said. Go on; tell
me, that though started bickering me. She knew I wanted to
sleep. But she didn't really feel like letting me do that.
Angels. Go figure. Aren't they supposed to be helpful and
protective? Not this one. Not this angel. She was bored I
guess. Sitting somewhere in the universe wasn't a life long
kick, and I guess she needed some entertainment. I can't
think of any other reason for her to come and talk to me.

Anyway, she started asking me questions, with no expectation
for an answer, which was good because I really didn't want
to answer. I didn't want to fight with her either. It's not
my style; I like to make peace with people. To ignore them,
and make peace with them at the same time. If you don't
fight with a person, there is no need to say anything or
sign any contract; I call that peace. This is what I have in
my life. Peace with everyone around me, so this situation
was best for everyone. How mature of me.

All of a sudden I wanted to be her. I don't know why, but
coming to people in their dreams? Something I would enjoy
very very much. I don't have anything better to do with my
time anyway. Didn't feel like asking her where angels come
from though, nor to ask her how to become one. And she? She
was talking about something. I wasn't paying too much
attention. Something about hospital, car, legs. What a bored
angel. She didn't even notice that I wasn't paying any
attention.

After thinking about all of those things I stopped the river
of words coming from her mouth and said: "You said something
small dear angel. Please, tell me"
The angel didn't like my reaction. She liked to talk, and
talk a lot, and fast.
She gave me a nasty look and told me: "OK". And stopped, it
looked like she was thinking about something.
I was expecting the worse, what do I know about what angels
can do to you when they are upset. She wasn't mad, just
upset.
"I wanted to tell you, you are really pretty, and I hope you
use it wisely, with a sense of care. Don't do bad things
with it, but don't neglect it" she said.

That was it?! She woke me up to tell me I'm a pretty face?
I had one thing to say to the dear angel:" Thanks, I will"

She waved, and went away, don't ask me how, I don't remember
her having any wings which didn't look like plastic, I told
you she looked like a character from TV, the wings never
look real there. She just vanished, and I could go back to
sleep.
Yes, I'm pretty, and even angels realize that. Lucky me.
Darkness come to papa!

Or was it just a weird angel, a very bored angel who wanted
to talk and I didn't let her and didn't cooperate. The
thought cut my brain into two. All of a sudden I didn't feel
so good about going to sleep anymore, to the deep dark sleep
that is. I wanted to talk to her, hear her out, ask her one
million questions. But she was gone.

She was wrong, I do remember her but not as a sweet dream,
she is a mix of emotions memory. Both sweet for the
compliment, and sour for the fact I have let her down.

A real angel. That one I know.
For sure.