"Aria" by J. Dunfield

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Droplets heaved their sturdy weight, hurling downward with the strength of gravitational force, colliding in sporadic pools. Aria unveiled her eyes to the sky, the shaded glasses resting in a hand to her side. She gave a squinted gaze to the looming storm above, rain encasing her cloth and bell bedecked form, the gibbous trifles of tin chiming with the impact of those plummeting tears. The sky was dark, a canopy of massive, murky clouds, thick and sultry, as if the sensuality of their brooding literally oozed, descending to the few relatively reluctant inhabitants below.

Aria noted this quality, unconcerned with the appearance of her rain-matted hair or the miniature raindrops that gathered in her eyelashes and about the rim of her eyes. She beamed gently, humbled in this rare opportunity to see the world without protection, dark thought it was. Her smile faded though, with the distinct tingle of sensation invoked only by the invasion of one\rquote s proximal perception. She turned slowly, confronting the deity at her back.

Wings fanned with the light of God, an aura so pure that even its intensity couldn\rquote t affect the sensitivity of her eyes. Arms, glowing brilliance, kept a stern fold. A face, defined with immaculacy and smooth to the tender touch of sight, glowered with all the might necessary for intimidation.

Aria cowered.

Familiar as she was to her angelic companion, he had always brought that tangible trickle of apprehension and indignity, distilled slowly down the vulnerable skin above her spine. Her hands, though so delicately composed, contracted, fingers pulling into themselves, crushing the fragile sunglasses. She gazed down to her hand and the mess of blood mingled with tinted glass and wire displayed there, glancing quickly to the angel who seemed not to notice her injuries. Without the safety of withdrawal, her hand shook, quivering so that the debris not lodged into layers of skin fell, rain carrying away the remaining loose fragments and wasted blood.

The angel\rquote s feign of ignorance continued, his numbers multiplying as Aria stood in purgatory between her quickly vanishing wound and predicament. Soon, there stood three, each magnificent in the unearthly shades of gold and natural white they radiated. And yet, each held the same stare of contempt, their heavenly visages tainted and distorted to grotesque proportions.

Aria\rquote s determination began to falter, memories of the joy she had known only moments ago seeming distant and insignificant with such presences to address. Ultimately, retaliation became no option, escape developing into the prominent ideal. Coward though she was not, Aria had learned long ago what these beings visited for:

Retribution.

Returning the stares given her, Aria took a single step backward, hesitating, watching those before her and their reactions. Nothing. Another step was taken, and another until, with confidence renewed, she pivoted upon those cautious feet, sprinting away like a rabbit to its hole.\par