Carrie Clevenger did a riddle flash last week, and I’ve decided that this story makes for a nice little riddle, too. Can you guess what the creature is?
ABSOLUTION OF AN ABOMINATION
“WHAT IS THAT?!” the archangel spluttered.
The other archangel stood with his arms crossed, staring at the little abomination that had drawn such a reaction from his colleague. His own reaction had been much the same.
“The one responsible wouldn’t talk. We don’t know if it was a mistake or some sort of cruel joke.”
“Well, either way, we’d better destroy it before the Creator gets an eyeful.”
The second archangel started to walk away, but then paused at the sight of the monster spitting a stream of water from the puddle in which it was playing. He turned back and crossed his own arms. The two could have been twins, arms crossed, heads cocked just slightly to one side.
“Is it just me, or is he… well, sort of cute?”
“Only if you look at him long enough.”
The archangels looked at each other, each searching the other’s eyes for the will to do what needed to be done. Neither found it. They looked back to the
“He’s got fangs,” the first one said.
“Big ones,” said the second, nodding. “Claws, too.”
“Sharp ones,” echoed the first. “He does have wings, though.”
“That’s true. We can use that.”
“And he sure does like water.”
The angels’ eyes met again, and they smiled.
* * * * *
High above the ground, towering over the people who walk below, rests a leathery, eagle-eyed spectator. His claws grip the stones that serve as a monument to something beyond imagination. His teeth, sharp enough to pierce the toughest skin, are bared, waiting. Eyes that find him look away quickly, the shudders that follow a reminder of something savage. Thoughts swirl at the sight of him: why does something so grotesque exist on something so beautiful?
But he is oblivious. The clouds gather above, and, as the skies darken, he feels a thrill of anticipation. Soon, it will rain.
© 2010 Elizabeth Ditty