Thousand: Six Hundred Eighty-One

girl thinks to herself, as an ethereal vibration passes through her. And so they walk. At first the angel pulls her along and from this vantage she ought to be able to get a good look at him. If she does, she retains little. He must be just a bit taller than she, for she doesn’t have to look up at him. Much. His arms are long and slender, legs, too, and body? If everything’s so long he would be a tower. Might he have wings, neatly folded across his back? Partly folded, perhaps, they rustle and rearrange themselves. It