Re: Third Class ; Dining
Perfection would be nice. Angels were supposed to be perfect or, at least, they thought themselves as much, far above the flawed little creatures God had created and placed upon Earth like living, breathing toys with an expanse of playground to explore. But she had watched, and she had learned, and maybe that was why she'd been cast out. She was flawed, too, and they said the flawed had no place in Heaven. She was beginning to think that might not be so bad. "I wish there was," she said, wistfully, "but I think you're right. There's always something. Maybe perfection is different for everybody." She tapped the fingers of her free hand against her temple. "Up here. But it would be boring, don't you think?" Humans were so interesting because they weren't perfect, because they made mistakes and learned and grew. They changed. The unknown was thrilling, and life was one big unknown even if people did think their scripts had been written out beforehand. She knew that wasn't true.
She thought about him maybe being bad somewhere else, before, but even when she tried really hard she couldn't believe it was true. If he was bad, or had been, why was he being so nice now? And besides, before didn't have to matter. "I think you're good. Even if you weren't, you are now." Mind made up, the girl leaned forward and kissed his cheek, clumsy-shy and red cheeks; she was no child, but she was naive, having only second-hand knowledge to guide her through the complexities of humanity.