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mekachu04just a tiny little rock.
Aziraphale looked a the pebble in his hand, marveling at it. it was so small. he was a angel, but this tiny little stone had caused him so much pain! he could scarcely believe it, Eben now as he sat on the side of the road, his sandal in hand. he had to unstrap it and take it off completely, thinking he must have a thorn or a shard of something caught in the the leather, it had hurt so much.
just this tiny little rock.
the open weave of the sandals did mean he was used to sand and such under his toes, but they often slid right back out again, and if they ever grew uncomfortable, he just had to shake it out.
shoes where a newer thing, but he was quite used to walking bare, over all manner of ground, in all seasons.
it had never hurt before. not like this. and since he had no idea why he was hurting, he'd been unable to miracle it away.
how strange the world worked, he mussed, that his whole day had been plagued by pain. so much, he'd had to fall away from the group he'd been traveling with, sitting under the dusty sun and undoing numeral straps. it would take a miracle for him to catch up - which was doable - but still.
this tiny little, unassuming stone, barely half the size of his pinky nail, sitting plain in his hand, the cause of so much trouble. nothing really, in the grand scale of the world.
who would ever have thought.
Aziraphale looked a the pebble in his hand, marveling at it. it was so small. he was a angel, but this tiny little stone had caused him so much pain! he could scarcely believe it, Eben now as he sat on the side of the road, his sandal in hand. he had to unstrap it and take it off completely, thinking he must have a thorn or a shard of something caught in the the leather, it had hurt so much.
just this tiny little rock.
the open weave of the sandals did mean he was used to sand and such under his toes, but they often slid right back out again, and if they ever grew uncomfortable, he just had to shake it out.
shoes where a newer thing, but he was quite used to walking bare, over all manner of ground, in all seasons.
it had never hurt before. not like this. and since he had no idea why he was hurting, he'd been unable to miracle it away.
how strange the world worked, he mussed, that his whole day had been plagued by pain. so much, he'd had to fall away from the group he'd been traveling with, sitting under the dusty sun and undoing numeral straps. it would take a miracle for him to catch up - which was doable - but still.
this tiny little, unassuming stone, barely half the size of his pinky nail, sitting plain in his hand, the cause of so much trouble. nothing really, in the grand scale of the world.
who would ever have thought.
