Author's Note: This story was based on this prompt: WWE, 12/26/12, Soul searching)Write a story or poem about a person that says they’d sell their soul for… Who shows up to buy that person’s soul and how does it turn out when it’s time to pay up?
Michael scrunched his brow in concentration. Reams of papers hovered above white, puffy clouds, waiting for his attention. Souls screaming for divine intervention popped onto those pages in a shuffle of revolving names, making his head spin. As head angel, he had the inane task assigning humans to one of his fellow angels.
What should have been a calm afterlife had become nothing but a chore, his work never done.
No one down below thought to solve any of their own problems. Constantly, they prayed to be relived from their burdens. Most got those prayers answered, while others just had to be shuffled to the bottom of the list, in order to accommodate as many souls as possible.
Though he sympathized with many of their plights, they just did not have enough staff; angels; to satisfy the exorbitant amount of pleas for heavenly guidance.
What bothered him were not the real needs, the ones of those who had nothing to eat or shelter over their heads, but those of selfish, lazy good-for-nothings who assumed that they should be given everything on a silver platter. Those people, he did not want to help. But, his boss, the man upstairs, God, or whoever people wanted to refer to him set all the rules and got the final say.
His boss would not let him refuse those who asked, even if they did not deserve it, in his opinion. Underneath, he had always said that they possessed a human need for comfort and they deserved a chance to flourish.
A puff of smoke, along with a flash of lightning, a man appeared, a halo of blond curls surrounding his face. His large hand waved down below and all papers dissipated as if they never existed.
The man spoke, “I know you have a problem with these types of folks, but you need to make an exception.”
Michael refrained from rolling his eyes. He watched the scene on earth as if he were viewing a movie in slow motion. Tears rolled down the woman’s face, her head in her hands. Her thoughts were broadcasted very clearly, loudly and almost deafeningly. From what he discerned, this woman had lost her husband over a year ago, cancer had taken him.
Why he should be disgusted by her plight rolled through his mind. Then, the lady shouted out in anger, “I would sell my soul for a way out of these problems!”
He blinked, watching as Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, or whatever he called himself lately showed up right on cue and the lady gasped, raising her head. A smooth talker, the speaker of lies made his appearance as handsome as possible and the dear lady fell for every word coming out of his mouth.
Instantly, his heart ached to help her, to speak to her heart.
But, his boss, lord and keeper shook his head. “You have to wait. We cannot interfere yet. She has to hear his whole offer and only then can she make the decision. You know good and well that we can’t mess with free will. Do not worry, after she has heard him out, you can go and make your case.”
His sparkling blue eyes widened. “I do not understand. Are you saying that I go down to earth? I have never done that, it has never been my job.”
He smiled. Pure goodness and light radiated his entire body. The shock waves of those feelings almost made him stumble. He caught himself by holding onto a cloud.
The Lord chuckled. “This is a special assignment and you shall soon find out why. Patience, my child, patience.”
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