The Summer of '70
(Set After "When Angels Dare to Love". A Christmas present for a good friend of mine.)
The year was 1970. After years of feeling like I was a total stick in the mud, I returned to earth when I made my older brother Zachariah very upset with me. It's not my fault I kept moping around about the loss of my beloved Adora. If he had felt the same feelings I had when I fell in love and then lost, he would know how it felt. But he didn't so he wouldn't. So Zachariah decided to drop me into the place that I loved so much while I was there before. He dropped me in the New England area of North America. But this was not the same place that I left behind so long ago. No, this was something different in deed.
There were long haired people without a care in the world, flaunting themselves like there were no rules. Woman were wearing pants, men wearing earrings. No one was bathing, everyone was smoking. Everyone was crying over the break-up of some band that Dean has mentioned a few time, the Spiders or the Wasps or something like that. The world was multi-colored, full of beads, peace signs, smiley faces, and love. Love was every where. People were making love in the park, in the road, in the back of something called a car, in random peoples beds. Men with men, woman with woman, teenagers, adults, married men and woman, there was everything. I was appalled by what they were doing, since the only time I had been here, there were no cars, not much electricity, and people did not just throw themselves at whoever like they did now. But I was going to have to get use to it. I was going to be here awhile.
My new identity was Casimir Simmons, which was ironic, since Casimir was Slavic for peace-maker. That was all that seemed to matter in this time. I was a seventeen-year-old drop-out student from a New York high school. My hair was real long, my clothes tight. I had a leather jacket with fringe and beads. I wore tie-dye and something called "bell bottoms". And strangely, I was cool then. I was popular. And it was that summer of 1970 that I met someone who I swore I knew from somewhere. Her name was Margo Smith. And her eyes seemed to see right through me.
We hung out a lot. She would bring me food from her work at the diner and I'd tell her stories. She thought they were dreams or my wild imagination. What she didn't know was that my life from the past, the last times I had been exiled to Earth. Why they didn't cast me out like they did Lucifer was beyond me. But one night while working on a project for school, she showed me her family tree. I was shocked by what her ancestors consisted of.
"This is one of my great, great, great etc grandmothers." She said, pointing to a black and white picture. "Her name is…Audrey King. It use to be Fitzgerald when she was younger, but then she married some guy, my grandpa something."
"Oh…" I whispered. I was so shocked. This was Adora's great etc, etc niece. Her eyes were the same, her hair, her smile. All she needed was the same clothes and a bit more of a tan. Other than that, she was an exact image of my fallen angel.
"Casimir, what's wrong?" She asked as she touched my shoulder. I felt like crying right then. She even sounded like Adora. She could've easily passed for her daughter instead of Audrey's.
"I have…I have to go!" I yelled. I ran and didn't look back. I had to leave her before I lost her.
I didn't see Margo again. After tat, I was sent to Vietnam but was pulled out before anything bad could happen. But after meeting Margo, I knew love may exist, but just not for me…
:The End: