An Angel of Frequency
There is an angel in this park. Look hard enough, you’ll see her.
She’s bleeding, has been for years. She’s impaled, pinned to a bench by an iron sword. No one knows how this happened, and she refuses to tell anyone the story why. But she will smile at you, through gritted teeth. Her smile tells you she loves you, absolutely.
I’ve watched her for hours, and I’ve watched those who don’t see her.
Yesterday, two children were fighting over a single toy. When they got close to her, overwhelming peace consumed them both. They then sat down together and shared their toy.
Today, I overheard a businessman on his mobile phone, arguing with his wife. When he got close he broke down and cried. He told his wife he’d been having an affair. He promised to do anything to win her back. And she eventually believed him, judging by his later tears of joy.
I’ve come here every day this year. I’ve felt so much joy.
When I’m not around, I hurt, and remember why I return. You see, I sold my soul to the Devil. I want him to come to this place with me, so he will forgive me too.
image: David Witteveen
text: David Conyers