Michael watched from the skyline, wings wrapped tight around and shivering in the cold. He watched frenzied shoppers, lonely night walkers and flustered mothers. He followed pairs of police from five stories up. They circled as if at random, skirting the areas where, from his vantage point, he could make out violence. He resented violence.
When he fed it was a brief and intense relief. He swooped and as if swinging and was back on the rooftop before anyone could register the event. The taste was bitter, metallic and divine. That was the word.
He had watched this city rise from the ground at his feet and he was grateful. He had watched the people pacified as the earth was tamed. Revulsion was learnt and unlearnt and remorse was institutionalized. He watched as confusion set in and disatisfaction grew and knowledge was wasted.
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