Looking Out

A black and white outlook.

On a cold winter's day, I sat with my angel in a warm cosy room, watching the snow fall gently on the white countryside. White on white. My angel told me a lie, like a sweet song, mesmerizing me with her gaze, and then darted out of the rooom. Enchanted, I dreamily gazed out of the window, watching the snow fall, watching my angel spirit across the countryside. White on white. She returned bearing the sweetest gift, one that gave beyond the matter that contained it. And I had fallen. If only all lies bore such sweet fruits. If only she wasn't my angel of death.