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Humans are such queer creatures.
The angel looked out at his Mother’s creations. A woman walked past Aziraphale’s park bench, shielded from the autumn breeze in a royal purple jumper of the softest cashmere. Her head rocking slightly to the music streaming though her earbuds. For fifty-nine centuries, not even the richest kings and queens could fathom the luxuries they now possess.
A lively debate drifted across the park as a group of medical student studied under auburn leaves. Wisewomen and healers sought to fix the diseases for centuries, and pestilences that once ravaged humanity are now distant memory.
The scent of a chocolate chip biscuit reached the Guardian and he turned to watch a child eating the delicacy. Face smeared in chocolate. How far they have come.
And yet...
A man in a custom grey suit and cufflinks walked past yelling angrily into his mobile. “—push the deal, you imbecile, that little nobody will sell out for half that number, our profit margins will be—“ The angel sighed and stood, following his mark.
They are so rarely content, always coveting more. The corners of the angel’s mouth lifted slightly, at least he would be able to spend time with Crowley after this. Purely to update the demon on how latest mission for the Arrangement had been accomplished today, obviously.