LITMIR.BIZ

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these strange wingless creatures are people! Bosya mentioned that every angel would need to dedicate its life to a person. But how come? Why are these people the way they are?

      Fanyasha became dizzy from excitement; she swayed and grabbed the door handle of her brother’s room in order not to fall.

      The door opened. Bosya wasn’t there.

      Below, on his table, Fanyasha saw a large golden book, that same one that was writing in itself when Bosya was studying. On the cover, the emerald letters traced:

      THE BOOK OF LIFE

      PERSON: PHILLIP LOURIE

      Dare of birth: 11.27.1970

      Date of death: _____________

      ANGEL: BORISEY AROS

      Date of death? So people die? Like the butterflies? What if angels also die?

      Fanyasha squinted, then covered her face with her hands and shook her head. She felt that for her it was enough new information for today. After all, she was just a little ten-year-old girl.

      She shut the door, sneaked into her room, sat in from of the mirror, grabbed the hairbrush, loosened her braids and starting brushing her long curly hair. The grandmother said that a woman could calm herself down and get rid of heavy thoughts this way.

***

      “Fanyasha, dear,” she heard her mother’s soft voice, and felt her gently stroking Fanyasha’s head. “You fell asleep, darling. Today your brother graduated from the High School of Angels. Let’s go and congratulate him.”

      In Bosya’s room, her father and grandmother listened to the details of his day with pleasure. With atypical excitement, Bosya was swinging his arms and loudly bragging about his successes in Human Science and having the best grades in Technology Management!

      “Dad, imagine this, Phillip is only eleven years old, but he got first place in the cyclo-cross competition! And one more thing! Today I was the first to receive a diploma! And also, my name is now written on my halo! Here, look! That’s how it is…” suddenly Bosya saw Fanyasha, and abruptly closed the box that was in his hands. Then he quickly flew to the table and closed the golden book.

      Fanyasha noticed how everybody scrambled and tried to change the subject, attempting to distract her attention from talking about school.

      “Ah, whatever,” sleepy Fanyasha thought to herself. “As if I really need to see this halo, and I already saw the book anyway.

      “Just think, he has this person – Phillip,” and her face twisted, expressing how unpleasant all of this was for her. “Nothing special, nothing interesting. And anyway, I don’t want to know anything about these people. And about the fact that they die! Nothing, I don’t want to know anything!”

      Offering everybody to move into the living room, mother hugged Bosya, gently ruffled his curly hair, praised him for his successful graduation, and kissed him. “Well, congratulations from me, too,” said Fanyasha, then kissed her brother on the cheek, and was the first to fly out of the room.

      The evening passed very merrily. Grandmother invented a new game and made everyone fly in the living room and catch the rays of light. With a ringing laugh, she tirelessly shot them in the different corners of the room. Father was the fastest at catching those that flew fast and far. Fanyasha was very agile and caught the ones that did not have a chance to slip away, while mother and Bosya gathered the ones that hid behind the furniture and in the walls. Father was in the lead, but Fanyasha tried to catch up with him with all her might.

      All of a sudden, a tall old man with a long beard, wearing a dark purple coat appeared on the front doorstep.

      “Allow me to wish you all a wonderful evening, the Aros family!” he said with a wide kind smile.

      “Oshoria! Good evening! Come in, please! We are always glad to see you!” said father and led the guest into the living room. “Today we have a celebration, Borisey graduated from the High School of Angels with honors!”

      “I know, I know,” replied the old man and glanced at Bosya approvingly. “I took a couple of great shots during the graduation ceremony. I will drop them off later.”

      “That’s who takes the photos,” thought Fanyasha and looked at the silver haired guest with interest.

      “Efania, meet our city postman, Oshoria,” said the father.

      The postman smiled wide, bowed and solemnly announced, “Actually, I came here for a reason. Today, my dears, you have another celebration!”

      Having said this, he took out a silver envelope out of his large coat. On it, in a beautiful handwriting, was written:

      For Efania Aros

      Fanyasha was surprised. This was the first letter she had ever gotten. The old man took a roll out of the envelope, turned to Fanyasha, looked at her as if he had known her for ages, and solemnly read:

      Dear Efania Aros!

      Congratulations!

      Today a miracle happened on earth – the conception of your person. In nine months, a girl will be born. You will study in the Elementary School of Angels over the course of nine months, and be ready to celebrate the birth of your person. You will dedicate your life to this person, guard her and love her until the end of her days. We wish you luck!

Respectfully, the President of the Board of AngelsRadolir Felch***

      Fanyasha stood transfixed in the middle of the living room; in her head her thoughts swirled with a frightening speed: “What will happen? What will happen now? A person will be born for her? So small, ugly, and without wings! And she would need to dedicate her life to her? Love her? How can that be? Love her for what? Why? Was she not taught to love herself, her life and her loved ones? And now there is some person? How terrible! How is she supposed to live now?”

      As if in a daze, Fanyasha saw the silver haired old man, felt her mother and grandmother hugging her, her father saying something about the beginning of a new life, learning about many new and interesting things, and Bosya shaking her hand.

***

      When Fanyasha came to on the bed in her room, her mother was looking at her lovingly, and stroked her head. “I hope this was a dream, a horrible dream,” she thought.

      Of course Fanyasha wished to grow up sooner, to learn to fly and to discover the hidden wonders of the world around her. But her wonderful plans for the near future did not include going to school, studying, and, in nine months meeting her person to whom – oh goodness! – she would need dedicate her life.

      “Fanyasha, darling, you got so nervous that you fainted. Sweetie, everything will be ok! You will like school, there will be girls your age and you will learn a lot of interesting things. Your father and I will always support you, your grandmother will be close by, and Bosya will help with homework.”

      With horror, Fanyasha realized that it was not a dream.

      “But, mommy!” she begged. “I don’t want to! I don’t want a person! I will never be able to love her! I saw them on photos, they are so ugly, they have small heads, small eyes, and no wings! I saw Bosya’s book and it talked about death! People die, then? What about us? Angels? Do we die too? I am scared, mommy!”

      Fanyasha pressed herself against her mother and started crying. The mother scolded herself for forgetting to take off the pictures with people, and for the inability to protect her daughter against unnecessary and untimely information.

      “Forgive me, my dear, forgive me,” she whispered, holding back tears. “I truly wanted… I tried so hard… to make your childhood happy… but I failed. Forgive me…”

      “Mommy, mommy, please don’t cry, just don’t cry,” Fanyasha was saying through tears. “I am very, very happy, and

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