Friday, Dec. 31, 2004 - 03:50

Hello gentle Reader.

n this dream I was an Angel called Mikael (who, according to Encoh, was one of the 7 Archangels).

Some terrible event had transpired and I – and a number of my brethren – had Fallen from Grace. We resided in some enormous cavern beneath the Earth. In falling from Grace, many of my companions had been physically transformed; they’d become monstrous, twisted creatures, all beauty and symmetry eradicated; all perfection substituted with vile corruption… except in my own case.

I was physically beautiful; nothing blemished my skin. Strangely, I looked much as I do now only all my features had been accentuated to bring them to a point of being ‘physically perfect’ (a far cry from reality let me tell you).

In one hand I carried a mace made entirely of metal that shone like polished silver. The spikes on the head of the fearsome looking weapon were several inches long. In my left hand I held something resembling a sickle, with a cruel curved blade. It, too, was made entirely of metal and polished to a high, silver gleam.

With my snow-white wings folded up behind me I sat on an outcrop of rock overlooking the cavern’s interior. Beside me sat a fellow fallen angel; he had transformed into a naked, reptilian creature with fleshy, bat-like wings and an extended jaw filled with rows of jagged fangs.

I felt a sense of dread. We were preparing for some kind of battle. Our chances of success and survival were slim… it was expected to be a bloody and deadly confrontation.

I rose and extended my wings, as if stretching my arms after a long nap. One by one we took to the air…. At which point, I woke up...

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