Heaven is beautiful. But beauty, I’m learning, is not the same as peace.
Amriel is silent. Then: “Some prayers are answers in themselves.”
“I know.” I don’t look away from the marble. “There’s a girl down there. She keeps lighting candles for her brother. He’s not coming up.”
And somewhere below, that girl blows out her candle. I feel the tiny death of its flame like a stitch in my soul.
From up here, Earth looks like a cracked marble—blue and brown and bruised, but somehow still spinning. I press my palms against the balustrade of the Dawn Terrace and feel the hum of a billion prayers vibrating through the crystal floor. Each one feels like a small, warm bell inside my chest.
Right now, I’m nervous.
Heaven Pov Angel Youngs -
Heaven is beautiful. But beauty, I’m learning, is not the same as peace.
Amriel is silent. Then: “Some prayers are answers in themselves.”
“I know.” I don’t look away from the marble. “There’s a girl down there. She keeps lighting candles for her brother. He’s not coming up.”
And somewhere below, that girl blows out her candle. I feel the tiny death of its flame like a stitch in my soul.
From up here, Earth looks like a cracked marble—blue and brown and bruised, but somehow still spinning. I press my palms against the balustrade of the Dawn Terrace and feel the hum of a billion prayers vibrating through the crystal floor. Each one feels like a small, warm bell inside my chest.
Right now, I’m nervous.