Tips for Angels Who Want to Earn Their Wings

Good deeds alone don’t count

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“It’s not like I haven’t tried. I do everything to get closer to those wings. Other folks have theirs, and they don’t keep drunks company, sit with prisoners in filthy cells, and bathe stray dogs covered in fleas. I give half-price tattoos to depressed sailors and save moths caught in streetlamps for goodness’ sake. What more can I do to earn them?”

Seraphim wiped fresh tears from her sultry face, accidentally smearing her ruby red lipstick.

The bartender growled.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Well, what would you do?”

“Why does every miserable barfly ask me that? They drink half a pint of whiskey, sob, and tell me their problems. Then they want to know what I would do in their shoes. Hell, I’ll tell you as long as you stop shredding my beer mats.”

“Sorry. I do that when I’m upset.”

The stubble-chinned bartender stopped cleaning glasses a moment and looked thoughtful.

“If I were you, and I wanted those wings, I would stop doing stuff I didn’t want to do.”

Seraphim sneered. “Yeah, right. You’d spend your days in the skittle alley and bet on races would you?”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t ‘try’ to be good if I didn’t feel it, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” She picked at the corners of another beer mat on autopilot.

“Doing stuff you don’t want to do builds bad karma. It’s not really helping someone if your hearts not in it.”

“But that’s what I’m supposed to do knucklehead! Angels have to do good deeds.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Everyone knows it but you.”

“I thought you were supposed to spread, you know… Love.”

“Huh?”

“Doing things you hate makes you bad-mouthed and stressed. I’m not feeling the love.”

Before she had the chance to reply, the bartender unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off his back, and revealed his magnificent wings.

Seraphim gasped.

“You’re an angel?”

“That’s right. Been one for decades now. I only do what I want to do. If a customer annoys me, and I don’t want to hear their story, I make an excuse and go. I only come back and hear them out when I’ve reminded myself how lucky I am to have my bar and the people who come here help me.”

“They help you?”

“Yep. Without them I couldn’t have earned my wings and kept my bar. I owe them everything, and when I remember that, I have all the time in the world for them and nothing’s too much to do for them.”

“Sometimes, you don’t want to listen though?”

“Uh Huh, and I don’t. Not until I can give them my all. Stop giving when you don’t want to give. Give only when you remember you’re blessed and do so with a happy heart. Your wings will sprout fast.”

Written by

Writer, poet, storyteller. https://muckrack.com/bridget-webber-1 Author Page Amazon https://tinyurl.com/y2cgqhgv

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