Becoming Angel

So, I met my new massage therapist yesterday for the first time, who turned out to be part Hobbit and part Gnome, short of stature but with extremely powerful arms and hands and fingers, not to mention nice legs on a fine ass, and he apparently has enough majik going on that I suspect he will have disappeared into nothingness when I try to contact him again.

He sculpted my back, from what it was, into something entirely new, using only his hands and a little lotion and a lot of time. I felt high when I left, and it carried on well into this morning.

Unexpectedly, early this afternoon, I noticed an odd feeling in between my shoulders, which I at first took for muscle soreness, but as the afternoon progressed, realized was something more. I think I’m growing wings. Seriously. And I can instinctively tell, already, that they’re going to be great honking monster old-testament wings, all power and glory and too much for human comprehension. Angel or Demon I can’t tell yet, though I suspect they aren’t really much apart from being the same thing with different intentions.

But wings. I can feel the little nubbins growing back there, forming, becoming. And it’s painful, but hey, who wouldn’t say YES if offered the chance to fly? Even if it hurts a little bit getting there.

I’m a wee bit terrified.

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