Thousands thronged and waited at her doorstep. The crowd continuing to pour in, never diminishing. Broken, bleeding, twisted, hopeless. Ceaselessly, the angel met them one by one. Soothing wounds, applying healing balms, touch or words of assurance, whatever they needed. Then someone saw a large horizontal slit across the angel's back - unattended, septic and bleeding her to death slowly.
- S. Chaudhary
- S. Chaudhary
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