The Story of John and the Angel

The next time John sees the angel he says, I had a thought. She looks steadily into his eyes and picks her words carefully. Rags and scraps. There is no gospel in hell. By days end they have filled a score of pages and the angel reads them aloud. They look at each other with excitement and dread. To see the apocryphal tale so sharply alive on the paper crackling with pain and fire and recrimination.