My Date With The Devil And The Angel
“Why????” It was as if I was sitting inside a steel box and as I asked this question out loud, the voice bounced off from one corner of the room to another till it struck me. Then it badgered itself into my brain. I was no longer seated alone in this room. With me were the devil and the angel or so I could make out from their generic costumes. To my right sat the devil in a red leather jumpsuit complete with the whip, devil horns, snide remarks and smirks. To my left was the angel who was dressed in a white dress with her hair pushed back by a hairband. Her face was constantly plastered with a smile which was serene and sweet. She seemed nice. “Why do I have to do good or be good?” “You don’t…,” The devil said and shrugged. Totally nonchalant. I realized that by each passing second they started looking more and more like me. “She’s right. You don’t. But don’t you want to?” That was the angel