“I am an angel who doesn’t belong in this hell,” Gabrielle hissed, eyes aglow.
Azazel was unmoved. “Orders from Above.”
“Diplomacy in action,” she smirked, the glow now blinding. The nearby damned fled.
“She’s going nuclear!”
She vanished, taking all light and heat with her.
#hbp76 #hbp77 #hbp78
So freeing, not believing - luck is for the superstitious; not for me, likewise, with God. I simply believe in one less than most people I know.
So hell becomes a nonentity; there are no angels.
I just believe in right and wrong (and you will reap what you sow…)
#hbp77
“An angel who doesn’t belong in this hell…” she whispered to herself before sighing deeply once more, pinching the bridge of her nose. “First lesson, don't hold the blade like that, you'll hurt yourself.” She scolded.
#hbp77 #writing #writingprompts
Amarula considered Tharra as an angel who doesn't belong in this hell. Looking at the other NPA employees it was no wonder they ended up here as they were wind up death machines who's motivation is greed and murder. But Tharra, still tried to be a good husband and father. #hbp77
You might say she was an angel who doesn’t belong in this hell. But you would be wrong. She’s kinkier than all of us put together.
#hbp77
#clubstories
Pet names: I was your Angel. AM your Angel. Fuck tenses.
Cancer STOLE you. Now I walk The Physical watching society’s façade crack. Horrors get navigated; terrors skirted.
Please, my love: work some intergalactic magic, will you? For I’m an angel who doesn’t belong in this hell.
#hbp77
#grief
#hbp77 #vss365
"There's more to life than this!" She yelled.
But, they held no faith in her words.
It was not the stones that hurt, but their anger.
With every hit, the wings they wouldn't see lost more substance, disappearing entirely as human blood seeped out.
Mortal, now. Immortal as a memory.
“You don’t belong in hell,” she whispered, brushing a smudge from his cheek.
He flinched “You don’t know me”
“I know your kind.” Her lips curved, shadows coiling at her feet “You fall faster than the rest”
He glanced at her hand—bloodied, but steady “And you?”
She grinned “I belong here”
#hbp77
“An angel who doesn’t belong in this hell? Which angel would belong in hell?” Halonen said and walked to the painting. “It looks like you Hugo, frail. Meningitis is not child’s play.” Hugo smiled weakly and shook his head. “Thank you, I am fine and thank you Pekka.” #hbp77
I was stuck at a traffic light trying to get home after a 12 hour day, on the corner I saw a young family begging for food and a place for the night, the children maybe 5 years old. What has the society become, "an angel doesn't belong in this hell" #hbp77
Morris was a quiet man who never wanted to intrude on others, never be noticed. He shuffled, he didn't bellow expletives when sneezing and most importantly his fingers brushed the keys so his typing was always whisper silent. The office he worked in was hell. The people stomped between cubicles all day in a fury, the quite obvious alpha-overcompensating the men did when sneezing was deafening and everyone else turned their silent keyboards into old fashioned mechanical typewriters if he was to judge by the cacophony. He'd make a complaint, but then someone might notice him. They might even realise he didn't work for this company at all.
I could have really gone into the motivation/plot with this, but I like the mystery so much more. #writingcommunity #writingprompts #flashfiction #hbp77
Dramatis Personae
Prince Vladimir - One kingdom was not enough
Boris - His brother, rightful heir to the throne
Father John - A priest following his own agenda
Mr Smith - A teacher with no good intentions
Victoria - It's not her fault
Emine - An angel who doesn't belong in this hell
#hbp77
"This train is too hot." She uses her laptop as a fan.
"I can't believe there is yet another power outage."
"No wind. Global warming they say."
"I just wish they gave us windows to open."
"They should give us water."
He looks at her. "You are an angel who doesn't belong in this hell."
#hbp77
He'd seen the quote on graves and urns in the cemetery in town, but the weight of it didn't set in until he was finally invited to the harvest festival.
Not the one held in town, but the one behind the church.
He froze as they brought her out, bound, the angel who doesn't belong in this hell.
#hbp77
"He was an angel who didn't belong in this hell." Phil wiped his eyes, "Joe was the best of us and brought out the best in us. His friendship was a bright light in this dark, ugly world. A piece of each of us is buried with him." With a bandaged hand, he dropped a finger into the open grave.
#hbp77
“Hugo, what is this called?” Gallen said while looking at the newest painting. “Wounded angel.” “Very fitting. What does it symbolise?” Hugo shook his head and said. “I do not give such things. What it says to you?” “An angel who doesn’t belong in this hell?” #hbp77
"You know what you are?" Tim slurred, leaning against me, stumbling. Rolling my eyes, I said nothing.
"You're an angel who doesn't belong in this hell," he continued.
"I'd hardly call your bachelor party a hell," I said, "but your life will be if you puke in my car."
#hbp77
"There's an angel who doesn't belong in this hell pretending to be one of us, and I just know how to find out."
The elder demon walked over, holding a stone meant to cast an innocent soul to eternal damnation, and stopped in front of a stoic-looking demon.
"I believe it's your turn."
#hbp77
“You need to leave. Go back. You’re an angel who doesn’t belong in this hell.”
“Oh, really? Then which hell *do* I belong in, exactly?” I was so angry at him, I could feel heat rising off me. I #dusted the ash off me and stood up. “I’m staying. Deal with it. So, what do we do next?”
#vss365
#hbp77
#hbp77
Chris helped me up with the groceries today. He unsuccessfully tried to hide the bruise his father gave him. He claimed he fell during recess, but he is a poor liar. He's an angel who doesn't belong in this Hell. I have a nephew who's good with a gun. I wonder what the adoption process is.
More than you know
More than I can explain
More than one
Angels that don't belong
In this hell
They are silenced
They are afraid
All the lies
All the cries
No one hearing
God seemingly
Forsaking
Still they try
To shine their light
Hoping
Maybe
Someone may see
#hbp77
Painting: The Wounded Angel, Hugo Simberg, 1903, voted Finland's "national painting" during 2006. Source: Hugo Simberg, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Prose/dialogue: “An angel who doesn’t belong in this hell.” #hbp77
