Fickle Humans

Joe’s fresh corpse lay still beside the creek. An angel promptly appeared to lead Joe’s soul to places beyond.

Joe’s soul protested, “I will remain with my body until it’s found.”

“Very well,” she said and floated away.

Flies buzzed around his head and laid eggs in his open wounds. His muscles stiffened. His skin grew waxy, shrank, and decomposed until no skin was left. Heavy rains fell; the creek swelled. His bones washed away, disjoined by the current.

“Angel! Angel!” Joe’s soul shouted. “Come back.” But she did not return.

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