Guardians

Burning Angel Wings by Tiến Nguyễn (Pexels)I shouldn't be down here, shoes clacking on pavement while a mist of rain coats me. I should be cold right now too, freezing, were I human.The man I'm about to pass, the one who's walking in short staccato steps, is trying to quit smoking, is trying to quit smoking. He's failed. Just snuck a new pack into his pocket. This one is the last one, he swears. In twenty years, he's going to be sitting on his porch with his oxygen tank on his left and a cigarette in the other hand, sorting through the hospital bills and the offer for the home he'd once promised to his eldest son. If only I'd quit, he'll think as he wipes the tears from his eye. Right now though, it's just that one pack in his pocket. I bump into him, and I steal the pack of cigs. His son will inherit that place now, carving his granddaughter's height right alongside his son's. I pick up my pace before the man checks his pocket and discovers my crime.Three women are stumbling just…