October 17th: The Fallen Angel

 
A collection of small, ornamental bushes trimmed into rounded shapes, in a concrete-edged flowerbed. Most of the trees are green; a few are a dead-looking yellow. Overlaid along the road alongside: green text reading "#drabbletober".
 

Day 17 of my drabble-a-day challenge. Here is today’s drabble:


The Fallen Angel

Denzil said there was a fallen angel on the school playing field. Denzil was always saying stuff like that.

"No, really! You have to see it!"

He shuffled his feet in agitation.

Everyone rolled their eyes, and turned away. I knew it would have to be me. Again.

"All right, Denzil. Let's see it."

There was a pile of feathers on the grass. Probably pigeon.

He pressed one into my hand. "Keep it, it'll bless you." There were tears in his eyes as he stared at his angel.

Years later, I still find the feather unexpectedly in my coat pocket.


During autumn, I am an incurable picker-up of oddments. I find it incredibly difficult to walk past shiny conkers without picking one or two up and putting them in my pockets.

Often, when I put on a different coat, it will have a conker or an acorn in the pocket. Even when I’m convinced that I cleared them all out.