Blue Angel
The house was dark, cool and quiet. The fridge door made that ripping sound that you can only hear in the middle of the night, as the magnetic strip pulled away from the metal. My hand hovered inside, unable to choose between the cold chicken wings, and the leftover chocolate pudding, clearly equally appropriate midnight food, and then I heard a noise behind me, and slowly turned, just in time to see the angel land. Well, not land exactly. More 'appear'. In the hallway. A vision of...