Yesterday, an angel fell into my backyard.

He was unlike any angel I'd ever seen before.

His wings were black as coal

(but they shone like the stars you don't see here)

And his eyes were black almost blue

(like the bruises you get that never go away)

And his clothes were weird

(not a long white robe like the pictures say)

And his face was scruffy

(but it looked soft to the touch).

[I asked if I could. He told me it didn't matter to him so I did.]

[Psst. It really did feel soft.]

He ended up sleeping in my bathtub.


Two days ago, an angel fell into my backyard.

There was mud on his wings

Just as there was mud on his shirt

And his pants

And his shoes

And all over his trench coat.

(it was a pity because it was a really nice one too)

He didn't need to be cleaned up, he said.

Because he said he preferred being dirty

And he thought it made him more likeable to humans.

(but there are rarely humans here anymore)

(this place is nothing but dead trees and dead leaves and the blackest of nights,

And dirt and running and dirt and running and blood and running and death)

So even when he slept in the bathtub,

He didn't take a bath.

[He didn't smell, though.]

[So it was okay.]


Three days ago, an angel fell into my backyard.

He told me he was looking for someone

By the name of

"Dean".

(he looked different when he said "Dean")

(it was different than when he said "pie"

when he asked if I could make something for him to eat.)

It seemed pretty important

So I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget.

[I think he used to eat pie with someone else.]

[Maybe it was with Dean.]

When I checked up on him in the bathtub,

He looked really tired,

So I gave him my teddy bear.


Four days ago, an angel fell into my backyard.

He asked me what day it was,

So I told him it was Thursday.

(I wrote down Thursday on paper too.

Just in case)

He didn't sleep in the bathtub,

And came with me when I went scavenging in my backyard.

[We didn't talk much, but that's okay.]

[He did keep the monsters away, so that's good.]


Today, a man fell into my backyard.

He was crass

He liked pie

And he knew who the angel was.

("Dammit, Cas, what the fuck?!") said Dean.

He didn't know who I was and he tried to shoot me in the head with rock salt.

[I wanted to put rat poison into his pie, but the angel stopped me.]

[I should've put it in there anyway.]

Dean didn't sleep in the bathtub,

But he didn't let the angel sleep there either.

Tomorrow, they're going hunting.

Tomorrow, the two of them will leave.

I'm going to miss them.


Yesterday, the two of them left.

I stood in my backyard and waved until they were gone

Almost as though they'd never been here

With only a souvenir of a salt burn on my forehead

And some of the angel's shed feathers in my bathtub.

[It was nice meeting them.]

[Limbo gets lonely after a while.]


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