““The first one, with a wispy background that suggested feathers, gave the impression of an angelic figure with my face, dark skin contrasting with the soft, golden lighting. I gleamed with a subtle gilt shimmer and my eyes both laughed and burned. I looked eager and innocent, and maybe a little nervous, as I lay on the bed awaiting an unknown lover. The second was darker, as though hours had passed since the first and the sun had set. I looked lazy, heavy-lidded, debauched. A slightly smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. One very satisfied fallen angel. The last one made my throat ache a little. The background was lighter again, this time touched with pink over the gold, as if the night was over and an unseen sun was rising. I sprawled on the bed like I was near collapse, limp, dazed, exhausted. Love-bites speckled my throat and finger-shaped bruises darkened my wrists and hips. Not only had the angel fallen, he’d been utterly and completely wrecked, in the best possible way.””
