Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
Thanks to anon's suggestions we are now enforcing a past-part fills post
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“I died, didn’t I?”
He wonders if this is heaven or hell. It is too peaceful to be hell but he would never expect to find a traditional British pub in heaven...or an angel drinking gin and tonic.
“Not exactly,” Britannia angel flicks the rim of his glass, listening to the high-pitched resonance. “You wished on the wish-granting cherry tree that you had never existed. Quite a depressing wish if you ask me. Most people come asking for a boyfriend.”
“I don’t need a boyfriend.”
“You don’t need to disappear either.”
Matthew looks away, at the floor which feels more solid underneath his feet than anything he ever felt on earth. “But I want to. It’s not like my existence ever made a difference. Most people don’t even know I exist.”
The angel sighs. He looks like someone who has been in the profession too long, like someone who could use a stiff drink after a hard day’s work of rounding up souls and so he does; he takes a swig of his gin and tonic.
“Well if that’s what you really want Matthew, I can grant your wish but first I want you to be absolutely sure,” he says. Matthew wonders if all angels have British accents or if it is only because this man is Britannia angel.
“So you’re the wish-granting cherry tree fairy as well?”
“I’m covering for him,” Britannia angel pulls a face. “Actually, in my real profession I sell keys.”
“Keys?”
“Keys,” he nods. “Good keys, bad keys, long keys, straight keys, ornate keys, smooth keys, rough keys, piano keys, donkeys, and, dare I say it, the occasional monkey. Endangered or otherwise.”
Matthew nods hesitantly, pretending to understand.
Britannia angel flourishes a key of rose gold. It looks expensive and Matthew feels like he does not deserve to take it but the angel forces it into his hands.
The key is from Britannia angel’s ornate section. Roses twirl up its length, vines and thorns painstakingly carved with such care that one could almost believe that they were real.
“I’ll give you a very special key, Matthew. Go ahead and unlock the door with this,” the angel says.
“The - the door? What door?” Matthew tilts his head in confusion.
“The one right in front of you.”
He turns and almost falls onto the floor again. In front of him stands a large set of oak double doors, roses carved into the wood just like the key but painted and varnished; red for the petals and green from the long entwining stalks and thorns.
Matthew wants to look at Britannia angel for answers but he is already gone, as is the pub, and now only Matthew and the door remain.
He sighs. Even in heaven he is being bossed around.
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This looks really promising so far. Poor Matthew's reasons were as sad as I imagined they would be, and, an added bonus, Britannia Angel was great XD
Thanks for fulfilling this anon's wish X3
I'll be waiting patiently for more~
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I look forward to more!
I'll love you forever if he wakes from his wish to find that Alfred has decorated his unconscious face with a permanent marker mustache.
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