The sun was setting low enough in the horizon that it was safe to leave. He couldn't stand the stench of sewers anymore. He felt that he would never be free of it, not completely. His knees shook as he moved, as though it required practice to remember where he had left his legs.

I figured it out
I was high and low
And everything in between

His entire body was cold, his insides empty. The world had been cruel to him; pestilence seemed his home. Every time he peered into the window of perfection, his eyesight seemed to leave him all the quicker. Maybe alone was all that some people ever did handle well.

I was wicked and wild
And baby, you know what I mean
Til there was you

He came upon a grove as he walked. Howling to himself and to the moon, he laid down in an embankment, deep with snow. There were no animals for miles and no reason there should be. There was only time as it marched, brilliant and unceasing time. Time would be his undoing.

But something went wrong
Made a deal with the devil
for an empty IOU

He slept in the snow, remembering warmth as cold staggered and stabbed through his body. Death? Death wouldn't come for him, neither hell nor heaven given to caring.

Been to hell and back
But an angel was looking through
It was you, Yes you
Its all because of you

There was another kind of warmth suddenly, unexpected and frightening. The hand that reached out and touched for his skin was dazzling bright, forcing him to shrink back. He dug into the ground, afraid of the brilliance. The hand seemed unceasing although it did not move.

You are the reason
You are the reason I wake up every day
And sleep through the night
You are the reason

He saw the eyes next. They peered at him, unfazed by appearance and demeanor. There was a mix of intrigue and pity deep within them. He could not understand this angel, who stood out brighter than the moon and yet sullied himself with the touch of someone so damned.

Giving it up
No more running around spinning my wheels
You came out of my dreams
And you made it real

"Do not be afraid."

The one in the ditch snarled, repulsed by the thought that he might fear anything. "I am nothing of the sort. What do you want?"

The angel's voice is as sweet as the younger man's is thick. "I came to rescue you."

I know what I feel
It's you
It's all because of you

"What makes you think I need rescuing?"

"Because we are not so unalike, Greggo."

At the mention of his name, the young man shot up in his bed. Gasping for breath as the patchwork quilt fell from his shoulders, Greg Sanders began to slide away from the dream and back into reality. It was a dusty morning, he could see from his attic window. Greg rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled his shoulder, popping a muscle. It was time to get up.