You know it’s a bad day when you get fired. It was a lot worse for him because he was an angel. The he in question was the Angel of Torn Skirts. Well, he had been. Until a little while ago at least. The Ministry was downsizing and apparently his job hadn’t been important. The dignity of scantily clad teens and Scotsmen wasn’t really worth the effort. And with the Virtue Recession at is very lowest, the Ministry could hardly pay the angels at Retribution or Forgiveness. There simply wasn’t enough virtue left over for smaller assignments. The Torn Skirts portfolio would not be missed. And as the top brass at the Ministry reasoned, there were way too many false alarms in the name of fashion anyway.
The outcome of all of this was that the Angel was out of the Ministry, now just an angel.
The Angel did wonder on his way out if he should have to gone up to the Great Old Divine and made a case out of it. Then he had decided against it. It was not like he particularly liked the job. He had only himself to blame. And he knew that none of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for a stupid fault of his, one year back. A very big stupid fault.
So lost was he in this self-deprecating reverie, that he never noticed the circle of haziness that had appeared around him, as if formed from the clouds on which he had been floating aimlessly upon. And before he knew it, he was at the centre of a very powerful vortex. The Angel could feel the power of the vortex buckling him under the pressure, causing him to literally crumple into his wings. Everything inside the vortex got pulled to the centre, as it slowly shrunk to a point. And with a loud ‘pop’ it was gone, taking the Angel with it.