This is a short story I wrote one groggy morning, half-prompted by a Magritte painting I had seen the night before. I’ve always been fascinated with fairytales, and this one came out sort of by accident. Send me your favorite fairytales and short fiction! I would love to hear your thoughts too.
Survivors
A dark angel in a top hat took me in his ink-plumed wings and brought me to the ledge of a bridge, where we danced the salsa over the water and shimmied to the groove of a booming bongo beat. He asked for my name and I kept quiet as a mouse, certain a dark curse would befall me if it were to fall upon his ears. I could tell it had been a while since his hair had last been cut—wild locks curled golden at at the nape of his neck. I knew, somehow, that it had been sheared in an act of disgrace, but time had passed and it had grown. I reached over and it felt soft, like the downy feathers of an infant bird. He came so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. And then he whispered, I’m not allowed, his lips grazing mine as he spoke. No one’s watching, I whispered back.
I kissed him, or maybe he kissed me. It was the first time I’d been kissed in a hundred years. A century spent waiting and waiting inside the petals of a rosebud in the forest (you know the one). His lips were wet and hot and he kissed me slow. I felt every nerve in my body jump to life, like a jolt of electricity, like a roaring flame. We kissed and kissed on the bridge and he shielded me in his big crow wings so that nobody could see. Well, nobody could see, really—everything was deserted in that sprawling ghost town. It had been the end of the world, a very long time ago. But then again, you could never be too sure. There are always survivors.
I knew, somehow, that he was an angel mostly because he had died young. Too young and too innocent to have done anything wrong, but also too young and too innocent to have done anything right. And then he’d gone and fallen down here, and now he was really lost. We had both been terribly lonely, so we were a little relieved. I could tell. I began to realize that I could tell about a lot of things. Even if he hadn’t said them out loud. Like his name (Damian) and how many years he’d been roaming the Earth (ninety-six). As he kissed me, I knew that it was also his first in a very long time. I couldn’t remember how this worked, or why, or what I was. I had spent most of those hundred years in the rosebud sleeping. Sleeping made me forget. Or maybe that was just time.
We sat on the ledge, our backs to the water, and watched a lone lion roam up and down the bridge. Our one witness. He had been there when we arrived. It seemed he stood sentinel, watching over the town where nobody lived. He liked us, I knew. Or at the very least, he didn’t mind that we were there. I wondered if he was lonely, too. Like us. Me being in the rosebud for so long and the angel—Damian—here on Earth and not in heaven.
I asked him why he was here, if he had sinned. He only gave me a sad smile and reached over, tenderly, to take a leaf out of my hair. He tossed it into the water and touched the inside of my wrist, then twined his fingers around mine. I felt afraid for him. I knew he was being brave, though I didn’t know what from. But what if someone sees, I said. (There are always survivors). He told me, Come closer, and put my hand in his pocket, holding it tight. Is this okay? he asked. I said yes. I asked him why he’d freed me from my rosebud, or how he had even known that I was there. I thought I’d been forgotten by then. And all he said was, There’s got to be a good reason I’m here. But he was talking to himself more than he was talking to me. The lion watched us, then turned away, averting his eyes. As if to say, Pretend I’m not here. As if to say, Listen, I’m looking after you, foolish children. In that moment, we became friends. And then I knew for sure that the ancient lion was lonely, too.
The sun was beginning to set and I was sad. It cast a golden smog over the horizon, and I wondered if we were perhaps the last remaining creatures on the planet, us three. Maybe we could set up camp in one of the abandoned apartments at the end of the bridge. Maybe someone, forever ago, had left their key under the doormat. Maybe there were plants to be watered. Maybe we could take the lion with us, give him a home like he had probably not had in years. He wouldn’t mind. Unless he already had a home. Then maybe he’d welcome us into his. Rain began to fall, dripping slowly in droplets onto the angel’s knees, and then I realized it was only my tears. His wing was shielding me still, protecting me now from the setting sun. Is it the nighttime? he asked, gently. No, I said, It’s that I don’t want you to go. I knew if he left that he would be in trouble, and I would never see him again. And he had done me such a kindness. He had saved my whole entire life. I reached over to touch the back of his neck and he laughed sweetly, his sharp teeth shining white even as darkness began to fall. He kissed me again, on the forehead this time, and I felt something overcome me. Like an enchantment, the good kind.
When I looked up at him, his eyes were filled with sorrow. Is it the nighttime? I asked. You don’t know what I’ve done, he said. I squeezed his hand in the secrecy of his suit pocket. Well, you set me free, I offered. That cancels it all out. He laughed again and said, It’s getting dark. We kissed one more time and I leaned my forehead against his for a breath. I squeezed his hand again to tell him it was going to be alright, even though I wasn’t sure. We nodded at the lion, who held our gaze and then turned around, still patrolling, his long dusty tail swishing left and right, left and right. We walked down the bridge. I asked if he could keep me company, just for this first night. I claimed I couldn’t be alone. A hundred years trapped inside the petals of a rosebud and I couldn’t be alone. Sure. I would keep up that lie for the rest of my immortal life if he bought it, or pretended to. I said please, so softly I was certain he couldn’t possibly have heard it. He said okay.