Date: Sat, 10 Nov 2001 16:36:11 -0500
From: W.B. Harrell <wbharrell@hotmail.com>
Subject: angels tale 2

In the Arms of an Angel
The Angel's Tale
Chapter 2

Disclaimer:  Don't read this if it would be dtrimental to your sanity or
would cause you to commit a felony.

Wisdom for today:  When you least expect it, expect the unexpected.

Chapter 2

	We climbed the stairs to Jason's room as fast as we could.  I felt like a
dork after what his mom had said and what his brother had implied.  Jesus!
These people were so at ease with Jason's sexuality. They even felt comfort
making jokes about it.  I know how my mom would take it if she knew that I
was gay.  She would totally flip out.
	Jason grabbed my hand and led me to a room at the far end of the upstairs
hall.  There was a door with a sign that boasted in bright orange letters on
a black background: NUCLEAR FALLOUT SHELTER.
	"Sweet," I said, admiring the creative touch of my lover.
	"Well...don't expect much," he said as he opened the door.
	"Say what?" I asked, thorougly confused by his meaning.  His musical
laughter rippled through the air and wrapped itself around me. I soaked in
it for an second.
	"Well," said Jason, jerking me back to reality, "what do you think?"
	I looked around.  This kid had a nice ass room!  There were posters of
Creed, Alanis, Poe, Cake, Sister Hazel, and others.  There was a cow-pattern
sofa in a corner next to a bookcase that look well used.  There was a small
T.V. hooked up to a Playstation 2.  There was a strategy guide to a game
called "Summoner" laying casually on the floor next to it.
	There was a small twin bed in one corner covered with a retro Star Wars
ensemble and a few clothes littered the floor around it.  There were Jason's
school books on his nightstand.  However, it was the musicallity of his room
that caught me.  Against one wall was a full-sized electric keyboard and in
the corner next to it was an acoustic guitar.
	"You play?" I asked him, reffering to the instruments.
	"Yep..and trumpet, and saxaphone, and...oh shit, wait a sec, I've got
something for you," he said and rushed over to the keyboard.
	"Okay now what was it?" he muttered to himself, "C, G, A minor,
then...dammit what was it...oh yeah?"  He plunked out a few keys and picked
up his black guitar.
	"What is it?" I asked.  He grinned a goofy grin that made me shake in my
shorts.  Damn, he was fine!  I sat down on his bed.
	"Remeber this?" he asked as he began to strum his guitar and turn the
tuning knobs at the end.
	He settled back on the stool he was sitting on and sighed.  He began to
play.  I play guitar myself (not in a long time though) and I know quality
playing.  This guy could throw down!  There was this thing he did while he
changed frets that gave his playing an ethereal quality.
	Soon, a song began to formulate.  A song I remembered all too well...

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason

(He gazed at me with a loving stare.)

to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage

(His eyes began to glaze over.)

of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here

(I began to cry.)

from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here...


	His voice was pure love.  Sarah McLachlan was second only to Jason Porter.
	"Jesus..*sniff*...Jason, I never knew," I said between sniffles.
	"I...uh," he said as he began to collapse into sobs himself.  I knew what
was happening.  He was remembering his brush with death.
	"I need to tell you what happened that day," he said.  He took off his
guitar and sat next to me on his bed.  He began to cry as he told me the
saddest story I had ever heard in my entire life.