A Conversation Between Angels XXXVIII

“Hello Father.”

“Good Morning Son.”

“You look rather pensive this morning, head in hands looking down. You’re usually having breakfast at this time.”

“It’s just been such a tragic week down there. Sometimes I feel hopeless not being able to do anything.”

“Is it time for me?”

“Oh my Me no. Can you imagine how fast they’ll fight over you, make last time look like a blood test.”

“Yes I remember thank you, I still have the scars. But shucks I really want to meet Oprah.”

“Yeah she’s a good one.”

“Why can’t you do anything to stop the loss of life like that, with creating being your thing.”

“Well I just sort of made the deal with myself. Start it and then not stop it. Besides the human race is the only one that messes up what I’ve created. The rest works harmoniously. Still it’s sad, there’s such potential. I mean even in those bombings look what it did to the human spirit.”

“Do you think they’ll ever just get it right?”

“We can only pray Son, we can only pray. Now let’s go get some waffles.”

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