The following story has been selected as the winning piece for Dark Yellow Dot's Creative Writing Competition for the month of June, 2018. It was written and submitted by Taniesha Kadiri from Sutton, Surrey.
I think the temples of an angel are soft to the touch. Unlike wild and weathered humans, angels are far from the smog that pours from the beast’s belly. The beast is unmoving, it dominates the world humans live in. And where angels are, where they live is free of beasts, so they are free from their dominance.
Angels have golden skin. I thought they were pale once, however if angels are in heaven and heaven is where the sky is angels cannot be pale. To match their golden skin, angels have tight spirals in place of flowing locks, and angels have eyes the colour of copper deep, deep underground. I refuse to believe for a second that angels have blue eyes.
I was told by a teacher once, ‘Angels are pure like the whitest snow.’ Snow dirties easily. Once you step onto a patch of snow, the colours muddle and you’re left with a watery gruel unpleasant to the eyes. ‘Snow hardens into ice. I slipped once and hurt my head. In the black, the angels came to me.’ I then told her.
There is peace in the black; you cannot muddle it the way you can with the white. When the sky is night, the angels lay in its stillness and in that moment they are lost to us. Yet they are there and once I remind myself they are there I become still as well.
This story was written and submitted by Taniesha Kadiri.
"I'm infatuated with cute things and the process of sleep and dreaming. I worry often that my thoughts are not conveyed to others well through verbal speech, so I write and draw. I want to have a pet rabbit or cat someday."
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