Completion

Desdemonda could feel the hate emanating from the room, and she knew it was time to go in. She had to perform one final task that the team could not complete. When she had faced her own reconstruction, after her heart had been restarted, she had opened her eyes to see Prince Lucifer staring into her eyes. Lucifer had read her heart and seen the brokenness that had lain within. She had been so lost, and when he had leaned down and kissed her, he had taken everything that she had been, and amplified the feelings tenfold. She was full of rage, anger, seething hate, and lust. Lucifer had pushed her to the extreme, and she fell hard for him. She wanted nothing more than to be his devoted servant. To worship the ground he walked on. He had given her one final gift in that kiss, the same power to increase a new destroyer’s hatred. So in she walked, and kissed Chase long and hard, adding more fuel to his flame.

Waiting

It is peaceful here. The gentle breeze that blows through the trees is calming and renewing. The sky is a crisp pure blue, gentle puffy clouds move lazily across the blue. The intoxicating smell of lily of the valley and lilacs floats throughout the air. The long green grass sways softly with the wind. The sunflowers that fill the clearing happily turn their faces to the sun. The girl walks slowly under the sun towards the large tree in the middle of the clearing. Her feet are bare; her long blonde hair hangs past her shoulders and moves with her. Her snow white summer dress billows along with the breeze. She reaches the tree and she sits down and she waits.

Time does not exist here, she waits, but she does not know for how long. The sunflowers never fade; they are constantly cheery, perpetually happy. The sky never darkens, and never lightens. The breeze is comforting and caressing. She lays her head back on the grass and closes her eyes. The sun filters through the leaves of the trees, dancing over her face. She inhales the sweet smell of lilac and lily of the valley. She rolls onto her side and opens her eyes.

It is then that she sees him. He walks out from the forest into the long grass, a smile on his face. She does not know if he has seen her, but she watches his progress as he takes long graceful strides towards the tree. His stride is strong and purposeful, filled with an innate knowing, no hesitation. She can see his deep breath inhaling the thick flower drenched air, he does not stop to appreciate it, but she can see that he is enjoying the smell, the feel of the sun on his face, the light breeze that teases his rich chestnut hair. She stands up as he draws closer. She is amazed at the smile that breaks across his face. It is warm and inviting, gentle and knowing.

“I knew I’d find you here” he says. He tucks a long strand of her hair behind her ear and gently strokes her face. She looks into the deep green pools that are his eyes and she feels an overwhelming swoop of butterflies in her stomach. He gently leans in and touches his lips to hers; she closes her eyes and wraps her arms around his neck. He pulls away and says “I asked him to lead me to a treasure beyond compare, and he led me here”.

She smiles and says “I have been waiting for so long, I’m glad that you finally arrived”. He leans in again and the kiss is just as sweet, ripe with promise and hope. He takes her hand and together they leave the clearing, the place of patience, of hope and of life, knowing that they will each treasure one another, they way that they were designed and led to.

Thorns

Every move she makes, every twist, every turn, she feels their prickly fingers. She is absolutely surrounded by a thick web of thorns. They are inescapable. They mock her past struggles to get out and they remind her of her present condition. Gleeful over her future attempts to escape.

They sink into her, holding her captive in their piercing grip. She cries in longing for release, cries for the wounds that don't heal. Cries because she knows that this is her fault.

She climbed into these thorns so long ago. Long enough that the thorns have gathered to block out all light and all hope. She wonders what is to become of her.

How will she ever escape the clutches of these thorns?

They Find Me in My Dreams

They find me in my dreams. I run through the corridors shrouded in shadow to try and escape, clinging to the walls, waiting for them to pass so I can make a silent escape. They are grotesque creatures, misshapen with red eyes. They silently call my name, in a taunting whisper, giggling manically with self awareness of their terror. I can hear them, whisper, whisper, whisper. Their whispers snake across my arms, and flit towards my ears. I clasp my hands to my head in an attempt to drive them out, but their whispers are persistent. I run, as fast as I can, away from the whispers. They are haunting, the words leave marks on my soul, I cannot run from the words. The corridors grow darker, their whispers following me wherever I turn. They find me in my dreams.

Reconstruction

Desdemonda walked up to Chase and held his head between her hands. She delighted in the feel of twisting his neck until she heard the snap that disconnected him from life. She signalled to the reconstruction team to take him down below where she would finish the transformation.

“Donovan! Gear up, we roll out as soon as I prepare Chase for his new life,” she said as she headed down the steps after the reconstruction team. Normally after a torture session, the maimed humans would be stripped down to their hate and be turned into demons. They would then be sent to individual cells, broken down emotionally even further until they were bare and raw. Lucifer preferred his demons to be so damaged that they would look to him for guidance, for lust, for some semblance of order, and Lucifer relished the role of being their prince. Desdemonda had different plans for Chase. He would be rebuilt as a destroyer, not as a demon. They would extract his hate from his mind and put it into his heart, pump the emotion to drive him. Adrenaline wasn’t needed, hate and rage satisfied all other destroyers, and it would do for him as well.

                The reconstruction team had strict orders from Desdemonda to ensure that Chase’s form was to be as untouched as possible, but that his soul could be used and abused to whatever means necessary in order to get him to the level of the destroyers. Physical strength was a key part of being a destroyer, it was after all, not easy to snap the neck of a human when they were struggling and crying out. It was all about gaining the upper hand, about dominance, and when the warring angels were aiding the humans, the chances of success went down by a large margin. The team began with the extraction of hate. The process was long; hate was rarely entrenched in the heart, but a thought that the mind tried to convince the heart of. The demon in charge of the extraction laid his hand upon Chase’s, and absorbed the hateful thoughts into his own mind. He filtered Chase’s thoughts by weeding out the petty ideas and miseries, and focused in on the hateful thoughts toward his father and brother, and the loathing he felt towards his mother. The demon refocused these thoughts down to his hand and laid it on Chase’s cold heart. Chase began to breathe again, hatred and loathing coursing throughout his body. He opened his eyes and the extractor smiled, here was a new creation, a new kind of hate, one that would send the angels to their knees.

Mission

“Good morning Elijah, Josiah,” Eve greeted as she walked into the tent. The Angels had a map out in front of them, and Josiah was drawing up a list of what looked like away supplies for an extended mission.

“Eve, good morning, how are you feeling?” Josiah asked, concern for Eve’s feelings lacing his tone. He could see that she was looking better, and that her eyes were no longer rimmed red.

“I’m at peace,” Eve walked around the opposite side of the table and stared down at the map. She saw a black line tracing a route along the southern coast and up through the deep dark woods of Miriayla. Josiah had been following her eyes tracing the route, when he saw the question in her eyes he turned to her and said, “We will be going south first, we know that Desdemonda frequents the north to train and recruit, and we want to stay out of her way for the time being. We will see what caskets we can find along the coast and then explore the forest in more depth than we have previously. We know that we have two outposts deep in the forest” he pointed to two points on the map, “and it is there that we can leave any new ones, and there that we can send scouts to the north, and when we know the movements of the demons, we will be able to sneak in and awaken those that are ready,”

“But this time you are not to linger,” warned Elijah “we do not need a repeat of last night.”

The Crew

 Desdemonda reached the training ring and was disgusted at the state of her crew, lazing around like they had nothing better to do. Her crew was made up of herself and three males, Donovan, Keiran, and Ramiro. They were vicious, destructive and ruthless, true killing machines. She felt a regard for them. They weren’t friends, they weren’t enemies, they just existed together. She knew that they were bonded in a way, a way that made them work and kill together seamlessly. She signalled to the ring marshal to let in a few of those who they had taken from the black caskets a few missions ago. She looked at her team and silently sent them the message that they could do whatever they wanted to the humans. This was one of her favourite activities when she was frustrated, the one way to release all of her anger. Getting to maim and torture the humans.

“What’s your name?” Desdemonda asked of a man in the ring.

“Chase,” he said. Desdemonda looked him over and chuckled to herself. Chase was short with brown hair and grey eyes. Eyes that shouted anger and a hatred of the world, grey eyes that bore pain of hurts gone by, eyes that screamed his defiance. Desdemonda knew that this male would make an excellent destroyer.

“Well Chase, I’ve got something really special in store for you,” Desdemonda approached him with a malicious smile on her face, “Try to keep still, it will hurt less”.

Peace

“Eve? Eve, are you awake?”

Eve heard the small voice of Christopher. The tiniest angel that she had ever seen, small wings, but a big heart. He was always at the camps waiting for her when they arrived from casket hunting. She hadn’t seen him last night, and she knew that he was giving her the space that she needed to reflect on the events that had taken place last night.   

“Good morning Christopher,”

“I’ve brought you some fresh fruit for breakfast,” he came into the tent and set the tray down next to her cot, he sat next to her and laid his hand on her head and closed his eyes. His prayer was short but simple, and his touch healed all her hurts, “The pain will pass Eve, He knows, and he has cried also, but they get to dance with him for all eternity, that is a blessing,” Christopher smiled his huge smile and left Eve to bask in the warmth he left behind. She walked outside the tent to a brilliant sunrise, the sky lit up like a fire, the dew on the grass being melted away by the radiant beams. She smiled at the awakening life the daylight brought, and her heart was filled with peace. She walked over to the tent where she knew Josiah and Elijah would be, waiting to discover where their next mission would be.

Intense Hate

Desdemonda walked out of the throne room scowling and cursing, she knew that Prince Lucifer was not joking, and that her punishment would be worse than what they did to the black caskets, turning them into demons, tortured and twisted souls, maimed emotionally and physically so that they no longer resembled the human form that Shepherd loved so much. She turned down the second hall and stalked down the stairs, her rage rebuilding towards Eve. She remembered the day her casket opened, how the elements reacted to Shepherd’s outpouring of love. She remembered the hideous shower of shooting stars, the way the normally bearable sky became a sickeningly bright cerulean blue, and how the sun seemed to get brighter every hour. She hadn’t been able to bear it, she had stalked to her cave and tried to absorb as much of the darkness as she could; soaking in the emptiness that surrounded her. Two days after Eve had awoken; Lucifer had summoned her to his throne room.

“Desdemonda, you are finally going to get the chance to prove yourself to me, I want you to hunt down and kill Eve. As brutally as you want, as long as you get the deed done, I don’t care how,”

That was already a year ago, and Desdemonda had endured every punishment possible for the first year of her failing.  But not this time, this time she would capture Eve and make her pay.  Eve had been more than a constant thorn in her side, causing her more trouble than she had ever thought possible. Desdemonda quickly decided to change course, and started to head over to the training ring, taking out her anger on a few black caskets would do her some good. She could relieve her basic stress, and get her crew fired up to hunt down the warring angels, and that treacherous Eve.

Winter's Night

Wind howls across the fields, crashing into the trees, causing them to swing and to sway. The frozen pond is the perfect meeting place of ice and snow. The wind carries the snow into cold funnels that swirl around the pond and come back to rest. One lone red fox stalks across the field, in search of the smallest morsel of food. After the wind and cold drives the fox back into its hole, the fields become empty once more. Dusk begins to settle in, and the only colour in the sky is a pale orange, the reflection of a pale and dreary winter’s day. After the sun finally sets, the wind dies down, as if dying with the sun. A cold night is ahead, and the proof is the rigidity of the branches in the trees, that have an icy coating. The brilliancy of the night is the stars that are so clear, shining like little beacons in the night. From the depth of the forest comes a young doe, strikingly beautiful and perfect. She gracefully walks across the field and crosses into the next. As she continues to walk a stag emerges from the forest. Strong and handsome, he walks with purpose towards the doe. A young courtship arises on this rigid night, and new life will be found with the changing of the seasons. The pair walks into the forest, and once more, the field becomes barren. The wind begins to pick up once more, and branches begin to snap.

Dawning

"I see it now" she said. She looked in the mirror and could see the beauty that God had blessed her with. Her chiselled but feminine cheekbones, the beautiful colour and shape of her eyes with long sweeping lashes. Her mouth, and the slightly swollen kissable lips, the straight teeth and wonderful smile.

She smiled that smile and stared in wonder and amazment at herself. It was like seeing herself for the very first time.

Thanks God, for making me me.

Upside Down

Freya opened her eyes and was astonished to discover herself staring up at the sky. Not only was she staring at the sky, but it was not the blue one she remembered. A deep purple coloured the sky instead, and a pale green star provided the light. The trees were foreign, great big black trunks with white and silver leaves blowing gently in a warm breeze. Freya sat up and surveyed her surroundings, a great forest filled with these odd trees stretched as far as her eyes could see, the light blue grass was thick and long, yet soft and silky. Wildly exotic birds flitted from tree to tree, their songs beautiful and haunting at the same time. Freya stood and listened to the song for a while, feeling the breeze flow through her long black hair. The green star that shone on this forest was warm without being stifling, the air was refreshing, and it smelled of strawberries and orchids. She closed her eyes listened to the sound of the wind in the trees, and of the strange birds songs. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the small sound of rushing water as it tripped over rocks and stones. Her thirst drove her to the sound, and as she stumbled upon the stream, she was amazed that the flowing water was the colour of pure gold. She knelt down and scooped a small amount of the water in her hands, the water was cold, and it carried the fragrance of vanilla and tiger lilies. She drained the water from her hands and the taste of the water assaulted her senses. It was pure and sweet, and ice cold. The water gave her clarity of mind. Freya stood, and began walking south, on a journey to discover this strange and wonderful new world.

Angel Camp

                Eve’s eyes lit up when she saw the camp, they were safe. She turned to Josiah and breathed a sigh of relief, her breath warming the chilly night air.

“We made it, we’re safe…for now,” Eve breathed a sigh of relief and in her joy she gave Josiah a quick hug, she blushed and went into the tent. Josiah stood there stunned for a minute, shook his head, chuckled and walked into the tent.

“Ah, Captain, Eve, welcome back…where are the new ones?”  Major Elijah asked, immediately regretting it, when tears welled up in Eve’s eyes, “She got them didn’t she?” Eve’s tears dropped to the ground producing lily of the valley.

“Her attack came out of nowhere, they were deadly silent and more efficient than last time, her destroyers have improved, and they must have had more training…”

“Josiah, Elijah, if you would please excuse me, I need to sleep” Eve left the tent quietly, knowing that the angels would want to talk over what had happened.

She walked to the creek she could hear to her east, and rinsed off her sweaty face. She took a sip of the cool refreshing water and reflected on her purpose. There were three different types of caskets out there, the white, the black and the multi-coloured.  The white indicated when a person was ready to hear the truth and be awakened, the multi-coloured meant that the person was still in the process of getting ready, and the black meant the opposite of the white. The black caskets were dangerous, the people inside not being ready to be awakened. If Desdemonda opened a black casket, the person inside would be lost. Forever trapped to serve the dark kingdom. When they came across a black casket, they buried it and marked it in unique ways so that only they would know the location and could return every so often to check the status of the person.

“Father, thank you so much for my life, today, tomorrow and always. I know that you will take care of the young ones who came to know you today, and I thank you for your overwhelming loving grace that saves, and protects. Father, please, protect our night, that we may have no more attacks, so that we may peacefully rest our heads,” Eve closed her eyes, stood still for a minute, and ever so gracefully walked to her tent, laid down and immediately fell asleep.

               

                Josiah and Elijah pored over the maps that lay out in front of them, discussing the next best possibility of where the caskets were located.

“We haven’t been to the North yet, Desdemonda has been known to use that area as training ground, there is a possibility that more caskets lay there,” Josiah shook his head in silent frustration, knowing that the probable areas would be the ones where the demons would be frequenting. The only caskets that the demons could open were the black ones, and the only time they could take someone from a white casket, was when they were awake, the proof of this earlier that evening. Josiah replayed the bloody battle in his mind, seeing Desdemonda rip and tear the limbs off of an especially young one named Thea. She was so tiny and so compact, and yet you could see the love of Shepherd shining so brightly out of her lavender eyes. Desdemonda had seen how much Thea wanted to live for Shepherd and had taken on the task of destroying her. Josiah pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered not being able to do anything after her neck snapped, seeing the look of shock on her face, and Eve’s devastation. He should have known that Desdemonda would be hanging around that area, the place where the very first casket was discovered by his team, the place where they had awakened not only a white casket, but a white that was shining and teaming with life. Eve. He sighed as he internally kicked himself for failing to recognize that the demons would remember that place as well. He shook off the despair and turned his attention back to the maps.

“Yes, the North is a very great possibility, Desdemonda would know that you would want to get to those caskets,” Elijah looked up and saw Josiah sigh.

“I don’t know how we are going to get in there to find out; perhaps we could send out a recon team…” Josiah trailed off, knowing that the recon teams were otherwise engaged, in territory that was far more dangerous than the North.

“No, impossible,” Elijah stated, “they are occupied, staking out territory to the East”

Josiah sighed again, sat down, pulled a piece of parchment towards him, and started drawing up a plan for the next day. It was going to be a long night.

In the Throne Room

Desdemonda looked up at the throne room door, wishing that she didn’t have to do this; she would be punished for sure. Prince Lucifer hated everything, everything, even her, his most effective destroyer. More than he hated her however, he hated the Shepherd, hated him with every inch and bit of his cold bitter black cavity in his chest. The rumour was that when Lucifer declared himself better than Shepherd, his heart stopped, turned to stone, and fell out of his chest. He was then sent to live in the abyss on the far eastern coast, a bitter land of freezing cold winds, jagged sharp rocks, and no relief from any of the elements that constantly rage. It was hell.

                Desdemonda waited for her name to be announced and she proceeded into the throne room. She knew that looking at her feet would be futile, he could sense her rage. She looked up and saw the most beautiful man, at least, Lucifer as he looked to her. He had gorgeous blue eyes, ink black hair, the most chiselled jaw and perfect nose. Even though she admired his perfection, it disturbed her in a way, knowing that he looked different to everyone.  

“Desdemonda,” Lucifer spoke in his smooth, seducing silky voice, “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to come back empty handed, after your last punishment I would have thought you would have done better.  Or did you get a strange thrill out of it?” he chuckled in a deep bass that sent shivers down Desdemonda’s spine.
”Your highness, I had her, her cloak was in my hand. She was caught!! I HAD HER!!”

Lucifer glared at her with intense hate, “Yet, she somehow managed to escape you again. You are testing my extremely limited amount of patience. If you don’t have her the next time you meet her, you are going to suffer more than you can imagine,” his voice had become chilling, enough to raise goosebumps on Desdemonda’s skin. She looked back up at his face, noting the false warmth in his eyes had disappeared, his eyes turning pitch black.

“If you fail me one more time, I will have to take matters into my own hands. And that is never pretty.”

The Warring Angels

Eve breathed in and out quickly as she ran down the cliff with the warriors. She had gotten lucky, and she was not looking back. Desdemonda and her demon destroyers had gotten their newest truth seekers. She signalled to the warriors that they should stop and take a break. She flopped herself down onto a rock and started crying for those who had fallen. It was not fair; they had just understood and made the crossover into the light. Her tears flowed freely dropping like little crystals and immediately shoots of tulips popped up out of the ground. She smiled through her tears as she thought of the blessing of her gift. She was a giver of life, and her emotions brought all sorts of beauty into the world. She sniffed, straightened up and turned to Captain Josiah, “I’m sorry Captain, this is entirely my fault. I should never have suggested taking the young ones to that place,”

“Eve, don’t fear, and don’t fret, they have gone to be with the King, and they are now in a much safer place,” Josiah said. He knew that Eve would blame herself, and he didn’t want her to shoulder that responsibility. She had enough on her plate already, travelling with them, waking the sleepers and teaching them the truth. That was their only job; to search out the sleepers and wake them. The issue that they kept running into was Desdemonda and her demon destroyers. Stealing the young ones, twisting the truth to their version, killing those who wouldn’t go to the dark kingdom, maiming the poor younglings, she was sick and twisted, and would do anything to stop them. “Eve, we should continue moving, we don’t know if she’s got a secondary sweep team,”

“Yes, you’re right Captain, they are in a much better place, basking in eternal life with the King,” Eve stated, thinking of how happy the new angels would be. “Let’s leave, and be careful to avoid the mud, it will leave tracks later, and we don’t want a sweep team to find them.”

                The warriors and Eve got up and continued the frantic flight down the cliff, running with urgent haste to put as much distance between them and the battlefield. Eve knew that Desdemonda would send a team in the morning to see if they could find anything that her keen eyes may have missed. She knew that Desdemonda would be furious with herself for letting her escape, Eve remembered the moment when her cloak had been caught, seemingly on a tree branch, and when she had turned to look, Desdemonda had a wicked grin on her face, and her hand wrapped around the cloak. It had been a struggle to slip out of the cloak when Desdemonda had been distracted by her victory. Her grip was like an iron vice, strong and filled with malice and hate. It had taken all her willpower to get free even with the distraction. Eve closed her eyes and plunged further down the cliff.

The Beginning

Desdemonda walked through the wreckage of the battlefield, stepping over dead bodies and limbs that had been dismembered by her and her crew. She smiled at herself as she thought of the deadly force that her team unleashed on the warring angels. The angels had gotten lucky, only a few of their weaklings fell. She frowned then, thinking of how her target had gotten away, literally slipping through her fingers. Prince Lucifer would not be happy; Eve had been elusive for years since she had found the truth. She sighed and continued to walk through the burning field, kicking up dust as she went. She had no luck; the fire had burned away any evidence of their escape. She cursed, and her eyes flashed red, her black wings unfurled and she took off into the night.

Broken Wings. Pt. 2

I stare up at the stars, the aching pain of the destruction of my wings still coursing throughout my body. The night sky mocks me with its seemingly unending expanse. My wings flutter in a futile attempt at escape. There is no hope here. My eyes are flooded with tears and my heart keeps shattering into pieces as I feel the delicate softness of my wings under my feet. I collapse back into a heap on the floor, frustrated and overwhelmed at my situation. My lips are salty from the continual tears that run down my face. I shut my eyes and force myself to sleep. The morning dawns with an angry red sky and ferocious winds are chilling me to the bone. I stare up again at the walls of my prison, what little hope I had of the morning bringing a better situation leaves me. The walls are still wet and slick, an impossible climb. My throat tightens and I let a fresh wave of tears run in rivulets down my cheeks. I pull the remnants of my silken wings toward me and hold it in my arms. I am so weak.

Broken Wings. Pt. 1

                The walls are closing in. I’m short of breath. This tiny little box is keeping my wings from fluttering. They are so fragile after all. They are made of a delicate silk that is soft to the touch. Yet these damn walls are keeping them tight against me, preventing my escape. I feel the first tear, the harsh stone rips a hole through my wing and I cry out in agony. The next tear is larger, and it rips through my other wing, and I fall to the ground in absolute wrenching pain. I curl into a ball and let the walls do their damage. My wings have been shredded. I can no longer fly. There is no escape from this wretched hole. It has dragged me down, and now has taken my only way of escape. The tears flow freely down my face as I see the delicate silk of my wings lying tattered and ruined on the floor. I retch as I know a part of me has been taken away. I lay on the floor for hours, watching as the sun creeps down the wall as it sets. I cry some more for the lost beauty of the day, for the loss of my freedom. I am trapped in this hole. I stand up and try to climb out, but the walls are slick, and there are no handholds. My nails scrape off in my attempts to climb, and blood stains my shirt. I cry out to the black, to the abyss that is above me. Everything has left me. Everyone is gone. I am alone.

The Artist

The horizon was lit with a fusion of delicious oranges, and cooling pinks, mellow blues, and charged purples. The great artists’ brush moved over the clouds, infusing the sky with even more colour. The clouds were almost translucent with the suns’ closing radiant beams bursting from behind them. The colours were deepening, the sky growing darker with the days’ closing beauty. The artist smiled knowing that the beauty of the day could also be found in the night. He let the colours run off behind the water, and waited for the last drop of pink, orange and blue to melt into the ocean. The moment the last hint of pink disappeared, the artist picked up his brush again. Deep saturated blues, mixed with hints of sultry greens now lit the horizon. The warm brilliance of the sun was replaced by the cooling pleasure of the full moon. Slowly, the artist dipped his brush in the lovely silver that would mark the sky with little beacons. He slowly marked the sky with tiny little dots of silver. He sat back and looked at the canvas. He drew midnight waves into the ocean, and he made the palm trees sway with a gentle tropical breeze. He increased the brilliance of the moon and the delicate white flowers opened under the light. The smell was intoxicating, a fusion blend of vanilla and plumeria. The artist surveyed the scene and smiled, pleased at the work that he had accomplished. The palm trees continued to sway, and the artist dipped his brush, preparing for the sun to rise again. The artist moved his brush with deliberation, pushing the dark colours off the edge of the canvas. Subtle pinks highlighted the water, the deep orange sun rising at a gloriously steady pace, the pink hues becoming lighter and lighter. The artist moved his brush onto the canvas again, painting clouds that carried a light rain. The sun was unhindered by the clouds, and continued to shine, the artist merely smiled and let his brush paint the drops with purpose throughout the sky. The sun and the rain made a glorious sun shower, and the artist decided the sky needed one more touch. He dipped his brush in the paint and slowly painted an arc. A myriad of colours met in the sky to make a dazzling rainbow. He sat back and surveyed his work. Bubbling laughter of great joy tumbled from his lips. He smiled and cleaned off his brush, awaiting the sunset.