Birth of an Angel

 
This is the oldest story I know.  I will tell you it is about fifteen million years old, and you will likely not be able to believe me; but we are here not to convert you, we are here to defeat that which murders this Earth.
 
I have told this story only once in this lifetime, when I first became audibly telepathic and I still expected to find decency among the Americans.  That was in about 1972.
 
I did not write it down, I telepathically broadcast it.  I did that in those days, long and beautiful narrations telepathically sent out to whatever minds might hear them, songs in bottles cast upon the sea of humanity.
 
Few appreciated those stories for their importance, but they were narratives written on the ear of God, and I was telling them for my benefit; I was telling them for memory's sake.
 
I could tell them because I was not yet so hideously scarred by the American people.
 
Much of life for me in those days involved remembering, remembering who I am and who I was, what I was and what I am; and all the time, all the time, all the time there were attacks from the Americans.
 
Had I been allowed by the Americans to write at that time there were two stories I would have written, the story of the first human being to travel through space, that must have been nearly half a million years ago, and the story of Wan, the Angel who's birth story I attempt to tell today.
 
The Americans, however, were taking great pleasure in destroying my home and my marriage and attempting to destroy my mind, and it would be several years before I could approach writing again, and by then my writing was almost totally pain-driven.
 
As I tell you the story of Wan, there will be some flaws in the telling because this story should not be told while in a state of pain, pain clips the beauty of it, and all I have known for over 30 years has been American pain.
 
So to begin.
 
Wan was less conceived than conceived of, that is, God imagined him and he became, and this is how all God's Angels come to be.
 
God's Angels are born in space.  If planets were land and space sea, Angels would be sea beings; but amphibians, that is important to the story of the Angels.
 
Wan was born in the center of the Gala Sea, and the center of the Gala Sea is the tropics of the Gala Sea, where space is warm and stars are close together.  If the Gala Sea were a fried egg, Earth would be toward the outer edge of the white and Wan's birthplace would be in the yoke.
 
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Well, the American neighbor in the room above me has decided to push my pain buttons, and the story of Angels, their creation and their lives and their duties, as I told you, is not well told while in a state of pain.
 
Perhaps that is why America set out to maim my soul, I was too good a writer with too much to say in opposition to war.  The manufacturers of body bags loathed me, and with them was the lynch mob of war-money, and the American people were assigned to be the noose and rope, and psychiatry the tree, and the Constitution the earth in which the tree had taken root. .
I will attempt to approach this subject again tomorrow; but my neighbor above, just passing through and finding himself in the motel where the Telepath is staying, will likely torture me all night long.  An opportunity for sadism is difficult for an American to pass up.
 
Damn these Americans; and that's what the Angel called Wan came to say.