Final Arrangements, continued
Kismet
From yesterday's Log24 —
Clive Barker's Weaveworld:
From yesterday's Log24 —
Clive Barker's Weaveworld:
Another of the angel's attributes rose from memory now, and with it a sudden shock of comprehension. Uriel had been the angel left to stand guard at the gates of Eden.
Eden.
At the word, the creature blazed. Though the ages had driven it to grief and forgetfulness, it was still an angel: its fires unquenchable. The wheels of its body rolled, the visible mathematics of its essence turning on itself and preparing for new terrors.
There were others here, the Seraph said, that called this place Eden. But I never knew it by that name.
"What, then?" Shadwell asked.
Paradise, said the Angel, and at the word a new picture appeared in Shadwell's mind. It was the garden, in another age….
This was a place of making, the Angel said. Forever and ever. Where things came to be.
"To be?"
To find a form, and enter the world.
Eden.
At the word, the creature blazed. Though the ages had driven it to grief and forgetfulness, it was still an angel: its fires unquenchable. The wheels of its body rolled, the visible mathematics of its essence turning on itself and preparing for new terrors.
There were others here, the Seraph said, that called this place Eden. But I never knew it by that name.
"What, then?" Shadwell asked.
Paradise, said the Angel, and at the word a new picture appeared in Shadwell's mind. It was the garden, in another age….
This was a place of making, the Angel said. Forever and ever. Where things came to be.
"To be?"
To find a form, and enter the world.
If I stand starry-eyed
That's a danger in paradise
For mortals who stand beside
An angel like you.
— Robert Wright and George Forrest
