story: Mission

Mission

by Kirsten Anderson
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"I'm too quiet, too set in my ways to do something crazy like this," said Linda as she clutched her purse to her chest. "I don't take chances."

"Think about my offer," said the angel. He unbuttoned his dark brown leather jacket and tipped back his fedora. "You'll see I'm right."

"No," said Linda. "Really, I'll be fine if I don't do this. Pick another person. Someone like…" She looked around the diner and saw an elderly woman slurping soup. "Like her. She's old. Probably doesn't have many years left."

"She's already done it," said the angel. "She just did it yesterday, at her grandson's birthday party. The old gal knows how to have a good time."

A strand of thin hair straggled over Linda's gaunt cheek as she gasped. "I didn't need to know that. What kind of angel are you?"

He chuckled. "Well, I'm not one of those big-league angels, all halos, harps, and announcements. I'm a down-to-earth type on a mission to help people."

"Does your mission have to include me?"

"Eventually it includes everyone." He signaled to the waitress. "The special, please."

Linda cast a nervous look at the brown, square object on the plate. A soft white substance oozed across the top.

"It's horrible, I can't!" she wailed.

"Close your eyes and think back to better times." He reached his hand over and placed it on hers with a feather-light touch. "Just a bit of the corner there." His voice became silky. "Go ahead. Try it."

Linda looked at the plate with misgivings, then shut her eyes and forced a tiny piece of the square into her mouth. When the chocolate brownie and ice cream flooded her taste buds, a smile of relief melted her sharp features. She dug her fork in deeper.

"I've been on a diet so long I forgot how good this tastes," she exclaimed. She looked up at him. "Thank you."

"My work is done here." The angel stood up. "You're now free."

As he left the diner, he took out his appointment book and ran a pencil over the list of names. A full day stretched ahead of him, filled with hundreds of carb-starved souls just waiting for salvation. The angel sauntered down the street with a peaceful smile that made passersby remember the smell of their mother's cookies cooling on the kitchen counter or dream of offering chocolate-covered strawberries to their beloveds.

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Bio/publishing history: Ms. Anderson's short fiction has appeared in the ezines Flashshot, The Rose & Thorn, Wild Violet, and MicroHorror.