"Fallen Angel" by Aida Vicens

Biomech’s son

                It seemed that her light steps never touched the ground. Most of the people who had seen her would say she was flying rather than walking. And maybe she was, because her foot lifted no dot of dust.

            He moved forward slowly, stumbling at every single step. His pace was heavy and insecure, as if he was made of melting lead. The world seemed to try to embrace him, and he was about to surrender.

            Her pale grey eyes shone like silver stars set under two snow eyebrows. Her hair was incredibly long, falling smooth and straight at her back, caressing her pale silk  skin. Tall and slim built, pure charm was flowing from her nude slender forms, surrounding her. Her mouth was half-open, breathing calm. And, at her back, two white wings were folding with a slow movement, and they were glittering, ethereal.

            He fell on her knees, breathing hard. His hands were smooth no more, just like all his body. His skin was now dark, something between dust grey and mud brown, full of scars and healing up wounds. Only his eyes were still the same they were before: deep brown, nearly black, looking like bottomless pits, full of night. But he cannot cry anymore. He tried to get up again, but he could not. The metal pieces set in his body shone again, just like the large metal wings that were at his back, never moving, wide and heavy.

            She stopped. She had finally found whom she was looking for. At the end of the street, kneeling in the middle of a cloud of dust, there was Him. She approached him as an ending dream approaches to reality, and kneeled by his side. She touched his injured skin, and stared in wonder at what humanity could do with itself.

            The caress of those pure fingers seemed to heal his pain. He leant his head on her shoulder and embraced her as she was embracing him, because he knew what would happen next. He felt how she gave him a soft kiss in the nape of the neck, and how a sweet tear slipped upon that kiss. Despite his awful appearance, the horrible wings and metal tubes at his back, the cupping glasses and staples that were supporting his flesh… Despite of that, someone had kissed him, embraced him, and a love tear had dampened his skin.

            The silence fell upon both of them, and she knew why. She felt it in every single pore of her body. Another tear fell upon the cold body she was holding, because now he was dead. The first biomechanics’ son was dead after long years of suffering. But he had gone in peace.