What an odd thing to find on a sidewalk in LH, a perfect pair of wings attached to a bloody torso, or what’s left of it. Is this a sign from the the not-so-great beyond that I need to recant my blasphemous ways? Or can this be the antithesis of that holiday claptrap about Angels getting their wings: when one lucky bastard gets ’em some unfortunate fool gets hers plucked? I heard some crazy lady on KPFK talking about “Angels all around us” and she was even giving them names (strangely, they all had modern American english names) so I figure that if they are everywhere, eventually one of them is going to get squished. Oh damn, the TV is falling…Splat! One less pair of wings.
I should point out that the reason for this was possibly a hungry cat with a quick pounce but that would be way too obvious and make too much sense, and that kind of logic carries no weight nowadays. Best we join the club and imagine some grandiose meaning to the inanities of daily life, thus this is now a sign and photographic proof that even Angels die a horrible death. Ha, Ha pinche santitos, you are so moded!