The sky was a cold, drab grey, having just endured a thunderstorm that caused a mini-flood in the lower-lying areas of Singapore.

The bridge was still damp with the coverlet of rain water, and its stone steps were rather slick and treacherous, and she had to hold on to the green railings to stop herself from losing her footing.

As she ascended the last step to reach the top of the bridge, her eyes fell on the railing, and for awhile she paused. Then shaking her head, she continued.

Her life now consisted of a roller-coaster of highs and lows, in some days she felt as if the glass was half-full, and some days the cup was...completely empty.

And today, happened to be a day in which the glass had completely shattered on the ground, and all the glass shards had pierced deep into her body.

Her mind was awash with memories, and it seemed as if she was drowning in them, as waves and tides of emotion threatened to engulf her. A lump rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down, and continued to walk across the bridge, the back of her right hand pressed against her lips.

A drop of water suddenly fell on her right hand, and she looked at it, marvelling that there was still a bit of rain left. Then she realised that the rain had stopped for good, and that her vision misting up was not her eyes acting up again.

It was a teardrop, that had rolled down her cheek, and onto her hand. Without a second warning, another fell from her eyes, and flowed downwards into her mouth and onto her quivering tongue.

She tasted along with its briney taste, overwhelming loss, painful decisions, and despair she had never really known before. Then she stilled her shaking lips, and wiped off her tears with her white sleeve, leaving a wet spot on it.

She closed her eyes, and told herself:

Angels don't cry.

Then Shannon smoothed out her school uniform, regained her composure, and continued to walk.

Her legs carried her numb self down the steps of the other side, her brownish-black hair caressing her face. And this time, she didn't bother to hold the green railings at her sides, but instead moved without feeling.

At the feet of the steps, there was an little, old Caucasian lady, who could have been her grandmother. She was holding two big supermarket bags in her hands, and dressed very simply. She was however, slumped against the wall and it seemed as if she was not breathing.

Alarmed, Shannon rushed down the steps, not caring even when she caught her foot at an odd angle, and sprained it slightly. She knelt beside the old lady, and felt for her pulse.

She was gone.

Sighing, she pulled her phone to her ears, and dialed 995. After telling them what had happened, she placed the phone back in her pocket and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the dark sepia of her pupils now had a circular greyish tinge to it. Her hair grew slightly longer, and the white and navy blue of her polyester school uniform had faded and had changed into black sable robes that complemented her figure perfectly, and where the Methodist Girls' School badge had been, there was now a grey imprint of a rough-shod cross upon her robe.

She reached down and took the hand of the dead old lady, and gave it a squeeze.

The old woman gave a start before opening her eyes, revealing greyish-green eyes of wisdom and joy. She smiled at Shannon, and got up.

"Oh thank you, dear girl. That was a pretty nasty slip I had back there. Goodness, I thought it would be the end of me."

"It was." Shannon replied tonelessly.

"Are you trying to kid me, young lady? Because if you are, its not funny."

The Angel of Life and Death bowed her head, and a pair of black feathered wings spread out from behind her.

The old lady was startled. She turned back, and she saw her lifeless body slumped against the railings.

She gave a small gasp, and sighed.

"Oh my. Oh well...my poor grandchildren won't be having their favorite stuff for dinner tonight..."

Shannon said nothing, and waited for the usual question.

"Well, now that everything's said and done, where am I headed?" The perky old woman asked.

Shannon paused for awhile, and suddenly her vision was filled with the bright light of the Holy Spirit within the Caucasian lady. She smiled without emotion and nodded.

"You're going to live with Jesus."

The old lady shrugged.

"As if the other choice was even worth considering. But...What's your name girl?"

She hesitated for awhile, and spoke softly.

"Shannon.I'm Shannon."

The old lady smiled, and her eyes twinkled.

"Pleased to meet you, Shannon. I'm Josephine...You can call me Grandma Jo."

And for the first time that day, Shannon smiled with genuine emotion, remembering who else was called by that short form of affection, and nodded.

"Can you do me a favour? I know Jesus is waiting for me in Heaven, but I'd just like one last look at my grandchildren...Please, Shannon?"

She considered it for a moment, and nodded.

"Okay Grandma...Can I call you Grandma instead? 'Cause I have a friend called..."

Grandma Josephine laughed, and the sound of her laughter cheered Shannon up a little. She nodded, and gave her hand to Shannon.

"I'm getting a little old, dear. Would you mind holding my hand as we walk?"

The Angel smiled, and took the old lady's hand. Grandma Josephine pointed towards the row of condominiums behind Shannon, and spoke:

"My house is just over there, right at the end."

The two of them began to walk across the road, back to where Shannon had crossed the bridge from, and they took no heed of the cars passing by, for it passed through them like as if they were not even there.

Grandma Jo gave a loud whoop, and Shannon laughed.

"I'd always wanted to do that." explained the widely-grinning grandmother.

When they had crossed the street, and was now walking up the lane in which the grandmother's home was, Grandma Josephine turned to Shannon:

"You're not a real angel, aren't you? As in, you've been given the power and the authority of the Angel of Death, but in actual fact, you're still human and you're alive right?"

Shannon was mildly surprised by her deduction, and nodded.

"How'd you know?"

"I've read the Bible, darling. Angels are clearly beings of spirit, but now that I'm physically dead, I can feel the flesh of your being, and that means you're a human!"

Shannon gave a small smile, and turned her gaze back to where they where headed.

For a few minutes they walked in silence, before Grandma Josephine broke it again.

"Excuse me, my dear Shannon, but what is bothering you? I can sense that you're a naturally bubbly girl, but now you look like you've just lost your best friend!"

At that the girl stopped, and all was quiet for a few moments. Then she looked at Grandma Josephine, who simply shrugged.

"I've had this talent of mine ever since I was born. God blessed me with a sensitivity towards others, and I could always tell exactly how someone was feeling. Of course, it would be up to me to cheer them up. Now, young lady, I think what I said a second ago was correct, right dear girl?"

Shannon's expression showed nothing, but deep within her a terrible maelstrom of turmoil filled her heart, and for awhile the grey tinge in her eyes faltered.

"Now, come on, lets walk and talk at the same time shall we?" the grandmother asked lovingly, and Shannon gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

And as they continued moving, Grandma Josephine continued to talk:

"I was born sometime in 1924 in London...My life as a teenager then was rather good, being born in a rather well-to-do family. I had plenty of friends too, but there was those that mattered...you understand what I mean?"

Shannon nodded, her voice slightly louder than a whisper: "Yes."

"The friends who were there whenever you felt down. The ones who would stick it out for you till the end. The ones who would give their lives willingly for you. But then there was one friend who stood out..."

A wistful smile filled Grandma Josephine's wrinkled face.

"David was his name, and I remember his face and his smile even up to this day. To say that we were close would be almost an understatement...He was the one who seemed to know exactly how I felt, seemed to know exactly what cheered me and what put a frown on my face."

Shannon's gaze was now fixed on Grandma Josephine, her attention hanging off every word she said.

"We were almost inseparable, and for a period of time, we enjoyed that special bond that very little people had, of each other knowing how each would feel no matter what." She chuckled then, rmemebering what someone had said about them. "My cousin went so much to say that if we looked in the dictionary under "best friends", a picture of me and David would be there."

The Mistress of the Shadowlands said nothing, her own eyes distant and misty, lost in her thoughts.

"But then, World War Two came, and when all the young men were conscripted for battle, I feared for David's life. But it turned out that he had some defect in him that somehow gave him the right not to enlist, and so I thought he would be safe..."

"But it turned out that it was a whole different case, that David would still be taken away from me. I was at home, and with the news of my father being wounded in the war at that time, I was extremely distraught, and I made a phone call to David, telling him how sad I was. David immediately told me that he would rush over from his house, and even though there was a war then, I didn't care. I just wanted David to comfort me, and to give me assurance."

She glanced at Shannon, who swallowed, and nodded again.

"Then it came. The second I put down the phone, the air raid sirens rang. The Germans had launched their bombers, and were headed straight for us. I took cover with my mother in the air raid shelter, praying that the bombs wouldn't hit my house."

"It didn't. But then...when David came over...He was exposed...there was nothing to cover him. And when when the raid ended..."

Grandma Josephine shook her head sadly.

"He was gone. The shockwave from the bombs had killed him instantly, and that was when I realised that I had caused it."

"My selfish disregard for others, my wanting not to see the danger that loomed very closely...I knew that there was a war going on. But I refused to even think about it, and because of that, I had lost a very special friend.

For weeks, even months after that I felt as if a part of me had died along with David, and nothing seemed to comfort me, and when I turned to God, there was only one message He had for me."

This time Grandma Josephine stopped, and looked directly into Shannon's eyes, greyish-green meeting dark sepia.

"He said 'Why did you place so much of yourself in him, and not Me?'

"That was when I realised, that I had depended too much on David, and he had depended too much on me for emotional guidance and support."

"I had placed my faith in something that was ultimately not feasible. No human was infallible, and for making that mistake, I lost a best friend."

"Still the guilt would hinge on me, of how selfish I was, of how I refused to acknowlegde the War that was so obviously around. But God helped me to see that it was not totally my fault, for if David had not been so emotionally connected that deeply to me, he wouldn't have run out in broad daylight in the middle of a World War, just to comfort me."

"And during that period of suffering, I learnt many things from God, and even though I would never see David again in my lifetime, I could still see him when I went to Heaven, for he was a Christian as well."

At this point she stretched out her arms to Shannon, and the teenager accepted the hug from the grandmother.

"I can feel your pain, but unlike mine it will not last a lifetime, that is for sure. You may or may not regain your old camaderie, but it will not be forever, and when Jesus says that the time has come, then it will have come."

Shannon smiled gratefully at the Caucasian lady, and her words were that of a person who's burdens had lightened considerably.

"Thanks."

Grandma Josephine held her hands for a minute or so, before she turned to the building beside them.

"There! Can you take me up to that room?" She pointed, and once Shannon saw where she was pointing at, flapped her wings once.

Immediately they were inside the room of her grandchildren, and two toddlers, each with golden hair and cornflower blue eyes were playing with each other.

Grandma Josephine stood still, a smile present on her lips as she watched her adorable children laugh and run about.

"Aw...They're so cute!" Shannon cooed, and Grandma Josephine nodded.

"That they are...my Arthur and Helen..."

For awhile they remained, then Grandma Josephine turned to Shannon.

"Well, I think its time, my dear girl."

Shannon nodded, and taking the hand of the grandmother, flapped her wings once.

In a split second the room of the toddlers faded away, to be replaced by a road paved with gold and precious jewels, and clouds that seemed to be swirling all over it.

The enormous Pearly Gates of Heaven stood before them, and a man wearing a white linen robe holding a huge book was chatting merrily with a Polish man who looked uncannily like the Pope.

The Pole then waved to the man in white linen robe, and went in.

"Hi, Peter!" Shannon called, and St Peter, the man holding the book, looked up.

"Shannon! I see you've grown taller!" The man joked merrily.

"I wish I did! Peter, this is Grandma Josephine."

"Josephine eh? Lemme check under the Lamb's Book of Life...Ah yes, Josephine Elizabeth Williams." Peter quickly scanned the record, and found what he was looking for.

"Ah yes, "Gave her life to the Lord Jesus Christ, and stayed faithful until the end." That's all I need to hear. Go on in. Oh, and if you're the Josephine that I think you are, two guys've been waiting for you for quite some time."

Behind him, two teenage guys were standing and smiling at Josephine.

"Lucius! David!" The voice belonged to Josephine, but it was no longer the maternal voice of an old woman, but the sweet voice of a young lady.

Shannon turned, and saw Josephine in her teenage body. Yet it was not just the reversal of years that had happened, but something else as well. Shannon then remembered the Bible saying that God would give His people new, incorruptible bodies when they went to Heaven.

The youthful Josephine was dazzlingly pretty, the strawberry blonde hair and the cornflower blue eyes of her grandchildren now present on her. She wore a pink skirt and she twirled once for Shannon to see.

"Pretty?"

Shannon grinned and nodded.

Josephine giggled, and pointed at the taller of the two guys.

"Lucius is my husband...He came up here a few years ago."

Shannon raised her eyebrows at his rugged good looks and the warm demeanor that seemed to radiate from his being.

"Good choice, Jo." Now that Josephine was about her age, she felt comfortable using that nickname.

The blonde winked, and was about to skip off to Lucius and David, when she turned and spoke to Shannon.

"Shannon, when you feel that sometimes things are hopeless and dead, remember that Jesus said He-"

The moment she said "He", a voice of love and truth overlapped Josephine, and finished her sentence:

"I will be with you always, even till the end of the age. As I am with you at this very moment, my child."

Immediately, every part of her body went slack, and when she turned around, she saw Jesus standing there with His arms wide open, with the scars on His hands and feet, and His eyes of pure love and grace.

Her heart, which had been holding an impossible multitudes of hurts and unwanted feelings, opened and a flood of emotions swept out of her, and as she ran towards her Saviour, a tear rolled down her cheek and off her chin.

It fell down to the paved road, but instead of landing there, it fell through the clouds, and down to the Earth.

Shannon, however, was now in the arms of her Lord and Saviour, and began to pour out everything she had, everything she was, and everything she felt into Jesus, and He took it, washed all of it over with His blood, and filled her in return with His love.

************

Whoa. So emotional. but somehow i think some people might think its lame or cheesy or cliched something. man, i think i'm getting bad at this.

Lol. and if you think that's the end of it, you thought wrong.

There's a little mini-epilogue at the end in which mostly lit students or writers will appreciate the significance of. but that's beside the point.

Ah yes. Almost two weeks of silence from this blog, but that wasn't my fault.

I had to first ask what kind of a story our dear princess, 'the Death Angel' Shannon wanted in the first place, and then the inspiration was missing. fortunately, i found enough of it as i walked back from a certain bus stop behind borders over the overhead bridge, and there was how i got the whole setting.

bleah. what am i saying.

seriously, i can't remember what i wanted to say yesterday...mm...

oh yes. it appears that people nowadays have a rather low opinion of themselves, myself included but mine is a whole different take on the thing. see, while i know very well how retarded i look, there are those who have been given with great physical...shall we say blessings,and yet point to others whom they think are much more prettier/handsomer/hotter(oh yes. this word i've heard really often)/chioer/etc etc, and say "They are better!"

yup. its the same, believer or un-believer, fat or thin, tanned or pale. its like very little people seems to truly be able to appreciate themselves for who they are.

and that's being a Masterpiece.

you remember Melissa Fong's violin? the one which could buy like five of Tang's SGs or four of Ian's fender jazzes? works of art like these, often done by a master, usually have the mark of the creator on it, usually a signature or a name like the Stradivaruss(or however they spell it, my mind fails me at this point).

hell, even the SG and Fender have the mark of the creator upon it. the name of their respective makers, Gibson and Fender is placed upon the guitars/amps/whatever, and that in essence, makes it a kind of masterpiece.

back to humans. who do you think had the ability to create mankind in all of its qualities? you think Chance or Chaos or a faker called Cross-Branch Evolution have a chance?

Bwahaha. those fools didn't even think about how Darwin took back his theory when he was in his deathbed.

We were created. All of us. Right down to the single serial-killer or disillusioned terrorist. I don't know how He does it, but He did.

Each one of us was created to enjoy everlasting life with Jesus. Its like Lord of the Rings. Remember when the Elves all sailed off into the Undying Lands,to enjoy peace and joy forever?

Yeah. This time, everybody's got the chance. And not only that, we weren't just little toys that He fashioned from His imagination(as myraid as it is).

He created us in His image, and that's really...happening. Wrong word to use, but...anyway, He created us in His image, and that means we ALL have the Mark of the Creator on us.

All you Harry Potter fanatics, stop looking for that lightning-shaped scar now.

We all bear His Mark, and when He created us, He said it was good. Listen. Do you even know the extent of those words?

It's the ultimate epitome of holiness we're talking about. The (absolute sin one time and I'll send you down to the hot basement called Hell forever) kind of holiness. In fact, if it wasn't for Jesus Christ, Mother Teresa herself would be in Hell even with all her acts. If it wasn't for Jesus Christ, the Pope John Paul II(i'd like to think that he's in Heaven by the way. i know some of their beliefs may not mirror us, but well...He believes in Jesus Christ), even with all his acts of righteousness, would be in Hell right now. And I'm sure that since Gandhi didn't submit to Christ, he is also in Hell right now.

When God says its good, its really really good. And not just finger-licking good.

And that means we are Masterpieces, each one of us, unique in our own way God has created us. which for those who still do not understand, means that when God looks at us, He thinks that we are damn bloody special.

Remember that old song?

I've found the masterpiece in you
a work of art its true,
and I treasure you my love

yeah yeah, i'm a sucker for cheesy or corny songs. but that's what the Father is saying to us right now.

That He sees His Masterpiece in us, and that He treasured us so much, that he was willing to send His only Beloved Son to die for us, so that we may not perish, but live with Him forever.

Mmhmm.

In fact, I think I need to pray now. i've been calling one of His Masterpieces a great failure and a man unable to stand out to anything.

Who have I been calling a great failure?

Who else?

Only a guy named Joshua Kwan, son of Thomis Kwan, descendant of the noble Kwan Yu.

P.S I've been fond of saying that recently, thanks to the Lord of the Rings DVDs I've borrowed. Yeah i know,"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur" or "Legolas, grandson of (i can't remember, but he died in the battle that took Elendil's life), Prince of the Mirkwood Elves" or even "Gimli, son of Gloin"...

P.S.S I wonder if Jesus ever introduced Himself as "Jesus, son of Joseph" or in actual fact "Jesus, son of the Heavenly Father, the One True God, the God of Israel..." you get the idea...

P.S.S.S I have a bad feeling i'm gonna get flamed for that last sentence. really.

************

The sky was a bright, clear blue, and the sun shone down into the tropical land, and as usual, the humidity caused much perspiration on everybody who lived there. Fortunately, there was air-conditioners running in almost all of the buildings, but there was no air-conditioner for a certain teenager who was leading his little cousin, almost seven years younger than him to her father, who was his uncle.

For the road he took lead him away from the comfortable cold of the air-conditioners, but still, the road was now drying from the previous downpour almost an hour ago, and even though he enjoyed rain more than the sun usually, this time he could not deny there was a lifting sensation to it.

He had no need to look at road signs, or look to the side of the railings for support, for his footing was sure as his true and complete pillar of strength was the One who created the Universe, and that gave him full confidence.

As he walked up the overhead bridge with his cousin Natalie in tow, she asked him:

"Korkor Jojo," The first a word of dialect that meant 'elder brother', the second a term of endearment that had first begun with his mother, and then spread to every one of his relatives.

"Mm?"

"My daddy says you read a lot of books, and you know a lot of things."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. Apparently his reputation as a bookworm remained, even in his family.

"And...?"

"Well, I've always wondered this: Do angels cry"

At that, Joshua stopped. Now that was one question he didn't know how to answer, even with an educated guess.

How in the world would he know whether angels shed tears or not? The question, and the posing of it to him, was just strange.

"Why would you want to know that?" His slender arms folded around his chest, as he glanced at her.

She shrugged, a gesture he often found adorable whenever she did it.

"I don't know...I'm just...curious?"

The tall teenager then began thinking aloud, in the middle of the overhead bridge, his chin cradled between his thumb and his index finger.

"Hmm...Well, angels definitely feel emotion that is, the Bible says that they rejoice whenever a soul comes to Christ. But being in the presence of God most of the time...They should be filled with joy, shouldn't they?."

"Which means angels are happy all the time right?"

Joshua was about to use that line as a conclusion for an educated guess when something wet and warm dripped onto the back of his hand.

Slightly surprised, he took a look at what it was, and he saw a single drop of clear liquid. His eyes widened in bewilderment, and he looked up into the sky.

Not a single speck of white was in the horizon.

"Bird droppings I understand, I'm that unlucky" Joshua mused aloud, recalling two unfortunate incidents in which his shoe had made contact with animal droppings. "If there were clouds in the sky, I understand...but this?"

Suddenly he recalled the question posed by Natalie, and he looked at the drop of warm water on the back of his hand closely.

He shrugged, and in his mind he spoke to himself:

"If there's anything in doubt...taste it!"

And he did. He lifted up the drop of liquid carefully so as not to spill it, and he tasted it with the tip of his tongue.

Gross as he felt at that moment, he strangely didn't only taste saltiness.

He savoured an exceeding victory , a peace about his actions that somehow came only from One Person, and a hope that would never die.

He looked up into the heavens, and an unconscious smile appeared on his face.

"Well, Nat, I think I know the answer."

His primary-schooler cousin visibly brightened up.

"Really? What?"

She saw her cousin look down at her, and Natalie glimpsed his eyes glistening with tears for a second, before he allowed them to fall.

"Angels do cry."

He then took the hand of his cousin, and continued to walk along the bridge under warm rays of the sun, and he hurried Natalie along.

"Come on, I've got to deliver you to your dad pretty soon."

"You don't 'deliver' me! I'm not a package!"

"Well then, what are you?"

"I'm...I'm an angel!"

"Oh really? Let's see if your wings can carry you off this..." the last word was strained as he struggled to lift Natalie into the air.

"...bridge!"

"Stop it! Stop it! Ahhh!"

Shouts and laughter resounded from the bridge, and had anyone seen them, they would have been astonished, at seeing such good cheer while still in that weather.

josh fatesealer turned back time on 4/10/2005 09:01:00 pm.