Flash Fiction: Observatory

For days, Jim watches through the telescope as an object hurtles toward the earth. He tells his superiors. They ignore him. He warns them about his dreams. They laugh in his face.

On the 3rd night, the flaming orb is all he can see through the telescope. He gasps, backs away.

In a blinding flash, a figure appears before him. Golden skin. Wings spread wide. Black eyes. Fangs. She is not an angel.

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