Liberty's Sparkle (72)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (72)"
   
   Of course things can transcend light speed, but it's not like dusting crops boy.  Bobby Rook elegantly smiled.  Finding the humor in his situation, and that all was possible, or impossible for the skeptics, stuck in a vortex of doom.
   He left Liberty snoozing sweetly away, with Spanky giving the synergy of snores.  And, out in the moonlight; specifically, waning, making ominous things fade, one possible meaning and point of perspective, Bobby Rook strolled past a few Larry the Cable Guys and their consumption of over processed American beer; next, out into the wooded area, grass tall and wilting as winter approached, and the individuality of snowflakes began to fall--so did he, onto the ground, willing Saint Raphael for healing balm and celestial intervention, a few Nordic types still on Terra's surface, offering protection from the habitation of  demonology and its ass-kicking received by Saint Michael.
   And, as if trans-sexual, in the sense that sublime angelity can shift to grace the servant, or be of service to man, not proud of a lesser creature, but obedient to the construction and divine architecture of God.
  So, weeping tears of joy, a blonde arch-angel, blonder than Liberty, and eyes not forest-green, but sparkling like ocean emeralds, Raphael was there, Bobby Rook rolling over on his back, her, as she appeared at that point, placing glowing, neon-green hands upon his abdomen, infusing him with remission and solace; next, it turned electric-blue, a communicative hue, and Bobby Rook looked the divine creature in the eyes, his voice no longer mysterious, but honestly praising:  "God Bless You!"
   She winked at him; then, faded into the Otherworld.