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Returned by Angels<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Mum said her purse was Returned by angels<\/em>. When she was excited she sang when she spoke.<\/p>\n I nodded as she added, Fell out of the sky. That\u2019s what the lady said. Fell out of the sky and landed by her feet. Said she found the address from my license, but I think it was the angel charm I carry. Sure how else would it fall out of the sky?<\/em><\/p>\n I nodded, unconvinced. But I couldn\u2019t explain it: the wet tenner drying on the mantelpiece; the cards still inside. Miracle wasn\u2019t the right word, but it was pretty amazing if you thought about it. Put a bounce in my step and made me forget about Dad, for a while at least.<\/p>\n Dad\u2019s heart packed in at the same time as the cat and at the time I was more upset about the cat, that being more of a surprise. She\u2019d been having fits, that was nothing new. They started with a rustle, then there was the sound of bones rattling off the floorboards and, finally, the slow, creeping smell of fear. Even with the lights off, I could see her head twisted into a grimace and her eyes too wide, surprised more than anything else. Not unlike Dad at the end, come to think of it.<\/p>\n Dad would have had something to say about angels. Burst that bubble.<\/p>\n Incredible things happen every day<\/em>, Mum said and, for her at least, I think it might have been true.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Laura Muetzelfeldt<\/strong> teaches in Paisley. She graduated with a Distinction from Glasgow University\u2019s Creative Writing MLitt and she writes short stories which have been published in journals such as The International Literary Quarterly<\/i>, Bandit Fiction<\/i> and From Glasgow to Saturn<\/i>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Returned by Angels Mum said her purse was Returned by angels. When she was excited she sang when she spoke. I nodded as she added, Fell out of the sky. That\u2019s what the lady said. Fell out of the sky and landed by her feet. Said she found the address from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17009","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17009","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17009"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17009\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17316,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17009\/revisions\/17316"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17009"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17009"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17009"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}