Hamco Writes

She had never had any religion to speak of though she had once felt the presence of God in the shadow  of an idol's statue,  a replica of one, anyway, a copy in a copy of a temple,  but she still felt the power of people's attention  (or had just finished reading American Gods and had an active imagination)  (the irony of the blasphemous nature of her religious experience was not lost on her) once she had been pulled back from walking into traffic and that had almost been enough to convince her that God was real and twice, guilt and peer-pressure had convinced her to accept Jesus into her heart, to be "born again" as it were, but the re-births didn't take, and she stumbled into adulthood more chagrined that she couldn't make herself believe in King Arthur and his Knights than in Jesus and his Apostles She knew it the moment it happened She imagined that she could feel the seed take root She knew it, like she knew the su...

               The Angel appeared on a Wednesday evening, while Abe was drinking a glass of beer.  What Abe noticed first was an oddly luminous shape hovering in his periphery.   Abe tilted his head up, until he met the creature's eyes, set in a face with lines so severe they seemed carved from marble and did the only thing he could think of-- he nodded, in greeting.  The angel's face lost some of its tension, as it nodded back, then placed its hands behind its back, standing somewhat more at ease.   "Abraham...," the voice was loud and ringing, and sounded like it came to Abe from all directions at once-- not just above and below, but from inside him as well as out. Like it was coming from his very bones. "It's just Abe, actually," said Abe. The Angel paused and looked down at Abe, brow furrowed.  "Your name is Abraham," he said, clearly unused to being interrupted. "Well," Abe shrugged....