Mostly Blessed
An Original Comedy by Della Roberts

"Nerilnine! Message from the Big Guy!"

"Pass it over."

"Your eyes only, 'nine."

"Can't get up. Typing report."

"Come on!"


"Whoa, sorry. Don't have to bite me, crazy Halfer."

Carlin tossed me the small package at last, almost knocking into the cup of green tea that served to both relax me and keep me awake at my keyboard. I glanced at him, sharply, my demon-bred eyes glowing red slightly. He lifted his hands into the air and spread his wings slightly, as if by doing so he could prove himself innocent.

"Hey, it's from the Man. I know you didn't want to be disturbed, but I had no choice to the matter."

I slipped into a less threatening pose and continued to type. "It's okay, Carlin. I'm just a little on edge these days. A letter from the boss is not what I really want at the moment. I don't need Gabriel causing me any more trouble."

Carlin looked uncomfortable. I knew the look. He knew something I didn't, and didn't think I'd like the news.

"It's, uh, from a little higher up than Gabe this time, 'nine."

"Who then? The Son?" I rolled my eyes. "I doubt 'J-Dog' has much to tell a random Halfer working as a Guardian." My wings arched slightly as I used the extremely derogatory term for my kind.

My good friend Carlin, Angelic Guardian to the core looked even MORE uncomfortable at this statement. "Think even higher, Nerilnine..."

I dropped my tea.

"You mean to tell me tha- that..."

"Yes." Carlin looked far more sure of himself now that it was out in the open. "The Almighty."

We at the Guardians of Mortal Souls have an old superstition. The first words said before an assignment dictate how smooth it will run. The better the words, the easier the assignment.

"Well, shee-yit."