Sunny, With a Slim Chance

Your day began sunny, with a slim chance of showers. You took your umbrella from the stand just inside the door as you left for work, just in case.

Your morning coffee spilled on your white shirt when your secretary bumped into you, while attempting to remove herself from the path of the courier with the large box.

When you returned from the washroom, after rubbing the stain with a paper towel only to spread it farther, you found the box on your desk.

It said open with care.

Annoyed though cautious, you took a knife to the tape, gently slicing it from end to end.

Inside was a package with a note. From me.

Dear you,

On your way home tonight after work you will encounter an Angel. The Angel will walk by your side and tell you to raise your umbrella above your head. When you look up, there will be not a cloud in the sky. But you should nevertheless take heed of the Angel’s words.

Sincerely,

Me.

After a reasonably uneventful afternoon, during which you went out and bought a new shirt and a tie as well, just for the hell of it, you left the office to make your way home.

Along the way, you met an Angel. He wasn’t a conventional Angel. His wings were rather dusty and his face, though swathed in a sheen of beauty, seemed tired.

He asked you to raise your umbrella and you looked up to the blue sky. And then you saw it. The piano, getting closer to the ground as it fell from the 35th storey window of the building you were walking by.

You stepped out of the way just in time.

You don’t know me, but I am he, your guardian Angel.

Tomorrow, when you go to work, please wear a suit of armor.

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