"Dear Prudence" by Amanda Grieme

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Tapestry...

Few of us have ever actually seen her
face. Very rarely do Seraphim ever
reveal themselves as anything but
remarkable beings of pure light, but
the day that I was given the most
challenging case of my career as a
Guardian, I saw her.“Don’t be alarmed.” She
whispered, and spun around
on her office chair. She
kept her face hidden by her
long, shiny black hair and
a purple veil, resting four
of her eight delicate legs
on the desk between us. I
stared in awe of her soft
beauty, speechless. “I
chose you to take on this
case because of your bold
nature, Gabriel. Where is
it?”I swallowed. “Yes, I’m
sorry Mother Fate. I’m
just smitten with ….”
“… with my eight legs.”
She sighed the sound of
silk, falling onto warm
skin. “I have a lot of
weaving to do; two legs
aren’t enough ... you
know?” She pushed a large
file across the desk
toward me. “Ana will be
born on June 4, Earth year
1973, 2:03 am, under a
Gemini moon.”I took the file and began to
page through it, looking at
her history. “Let’s see …
her highlighted lives on the
front page are ‘shaman,
witch, movie star, queen,
and prostitute.’" I winked.
“She’s been around, huh?”
“For lack of a better
description Gabriel, yes,
she has been around. She is
a highly-evolved soul, but
this life will be
extraordinarily challenging
for her. She needs your
assistance; many other lives
depend upon her will to
live.”I took my spectacles from my
wing, slipped them on, and
paged through the first
twenty years of her life.
“That’s only the
beginning, Gabriel. The
really critical work will
begin in her 20’s. Keep
reading.” She adjusted her
veil, and flipped her velvet
hair away from her cheek.
“You’re a master puppeteer;
I’ve seen your work. I hand
selected you for the task.”I took a More 120 cigarette
from my wing while I read,
and poised it between my
teeth. She reached one of her
legs across the desk, with a
lit match. “Oh, thank you; I
didn’t even realize that I
took out a fag.” I was
uncomfortable. “Do you mind?”
She slowly shook her head,
handing me an ashtray with
another leg.
I closed the file. “What
Earth year is it, Mother
“1973.”“What date is it?”
June 2nd, Gabe. Sorry for the short notice,
but we had some complications with the tapestry.
You know the drill, right?”
I stood up and fluffed my wings, nervously.
“Yes, Mam.”
“Now, when you visit the Akashic Record
Library, ask the Cherub on duty for the bottle
labeled Ana Guida 6/4/73, then report to the
hospital labeled on the neck of the bottle. Any
questions, Gabriel?”
“No, madamn.”
“Good luck.” Her voice smiled, dissipated into
an orb of blue light, then vanished. I retrieved
the bottle and reported to the New Jersey
hospital, just in time for her grand entrance
onto Mother Earth. Harry Guida slept while Peg
screamed, pushed, cursed, and plead with the
And in the midst of all the commotion, I
slipped into the delivery room disguised in
scrubs, uncorked the bottle, and watched Ana’s
soul, light as springtime, nestle right into her
little solar plexus.
I sidled out, watching Peg’s softened face in
my peripheral stare into little Ana.
I smiled. “Welcome, My friend.”

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