A short story about expectations.

The first angels had appeared only weeks earlier.

Glowing humanoid forms, with indistinct outline and features, motionless and glowing a deep blue had materialised in twelve major population centres around the world.

Journalists interviewed witnesses, bloggers speculated, the sick begged for healing, the powerful tried to negotiate, the military tried to destroy. All to no effect.

The angels, as they'd become known, stood motionless and blurred, indestructible, unmoving and seemingly unaware.

But, over the ensuing days, the forms gradually become clearer and the faces more obviously human.

Religious leaders tried to claim the figures for themselves, and political groups did the same. Everyone wanted the visitors to confirm their particular hopes and fears, but the shining figures simply stood there, oblivious and unnoticing.

Then they started to make sounds. Their lips didn't move, but it sounded like they were trying to talk.

Mystics claimed to have predicted their arrival, and interpreted its meaning, varying from the end of the world in war to the dawn of a new age.

The angel's voices started to form recognisable words in the dominant languages of the cities where they'd arrived. Every few hours they "spoke" for several minutes, a few tantalising words, before going silent.


It had to be first contact with a higher being. Humanity was chosen, blessed, about to receive a glorious truth.


It was a call for help, or a call to action.

" friend...more beautiful...important...listen..."

It was a plea for unity, or a warning for unbelievers.

A month after the arrival, dignitaries and holders of power were clustered around each of the twelve, hoping to hear the first recognisable sentences from the figures, and hoping they could somehow turn it to their advantage.

The halos flickered in unison around the globe, a sign the angels were about to speak. There was an expectant silence, which stretched into minutes.

Then each of the twelve spoke, clearly and fully.

"This is an important message. Please listen.

Are you sad and lonely because you can't make girls fall for you? Do you feel worthless every night because you can't make them want you?

Well I've got the secret of love and I want to tell you. Yes, my friend, you.

With my help you'll soon be getting more beautiful girls than you'd ever thought possible!

With my infallible method, you'll never sleep alone! And that's a promise!

Send no money now..."


  1. Send no money...

    Any connection to religion was cut right there.

  2. And immediately, the economic crisis got worse as horny, delusional earthmen sent their credit card numbers instead.

    It's the worst type of attack! Intergalactic spam!

  3. Camy:
    Thank you. I'm not much good at dialogue or extended plots, but single-page ideas that come to me at 3am seem to come out well.

    Send no money...

    Any connection to religion was cut right there.

    Ha! I hadn't even thought of that. I didn't conceive it as about religion at all, just the disparity between the great idea and the sordid reality.

    Intergalactic spam!

    Douglas Adams said something about how technology (and spirituality, and investment etc) always promises freedom and a changed life. But always winds up adding one more annoyance to our lives.

  4. Happy New Year!!! Hope you have a safe, fun, and great New Year!