“To escape, I
must follow the golden thread!”
Pac-Man*
#quote
Today I found
out that the Freemason’s moody neighbors are the masterminds behind
the penguin conspiracy. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Guardian
Angel's Jigsaw
Sarah the
Guardian Angel looked over the pieces again. Today had been a very
rough day for Ray, one of the people she watched over. So the puzzle
proved to be difficult. A Guardian Angel's job held many duties, and
often they do it for many individuals, taking on more and more people
as they become more skillful. They protected them from the
supernatural of the world, inject their minds with inspiration and
will at pivotal moments, and as one massive duty, put the pieces of
the soul together between each day.
The body and
brain go hand in hand. Over time the brain rearranges its neurons to
compensate for new memories obtained along with other input, molding
sections as skills are learned and developed. Souls bound themselves
to the body through the brain, yet they do not have the ability to
rearrange themselves.
Sarah, and
every Guardian Angel like her, must fulfill the duty of taking the
pieces of the soul and moving them around to match the physical mind.
They usually do it nightly, because if anyone left a soul too long
then the puzzle could become a nightmare to solve. When only a few
things have changed then a few flicks of the magical wrist can pull
the various parts of the soul into alignment.
Sarah did not
have an easy case. Though she didn't let a long time pass since she
last fixed up Ray, the poor man went through a massive string of
emotional events. A great booming high of happiness with a promotion
at work then coming home to find his wife have an affair in his own
bed. The wife left the house in shame hiding it in a fake anger
pretending he was at fault while he sunk into his bed.
Sarah, at this
moment, could only help the man by using her magic to inject some
strong will into him and pick up the pieces of his soul and align
them to reality. The soul gave the brain purpose, like the watcher of
a monitor on a computer. Without a soul the brain would operate and
executing its program, but no internal being would observe the images
on the monitor and they fade into meaninglessness. A brain would
never know if it didn't have a soul, but the universe would.
In the Angelic
Plane Sarah worked on Ray's soul from her Guardian Observatory. Each
element and fragment of Ray's soul floated in the massive room as a
sparkle, as if someone tore down the night sky and shot it in the
room as confetti. Each element resided on a piece of glass like
substance, with edges carved in like a jigsaw puzzle piece. These
pieces weren't always flat, and could bend and turn.She spent her
time working hard on putting them together. She needed to fix the
soul back together. Golden text twinkled from time to time describing
each piece. She used these hints of what each piece was to place its
relation properly.
“Afternoon's
Anguish” one flashed in gold text. She read the text further and
realized the piece reflected the anguish that Ray felt discovering
the affair. Sarah knew that if she threw away this piece and never
connected it back that the true being behind the brain would not feel
the pain. So really the pain would not exist. The brain functioned as
a computer, the soul as the true feeling being. Snap the piece. Easy
and done.
Sarah placed
the piece in its proper place. She'd been in this business of
guarding people for two hundred years. She knew that every part of a
person completes them and that no piece should be thrown away.
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