Thirteen little angels form a circle and hum a solemn hymn. The melody is simple but hypnotic; the words begin to sound like gibberish the longer the hymn drones on, like a chant spoken in tongues. Suddenly, there is a voice that strays from the harmony and begins to sing a half step too high. Then the words begin to change, resounding in similar sounding syllables yet conveying a much more comical response in contrast to the prescribed musical monologue.
After a few moments of discordant counterpoint, there is suddenly a harsh silence that falls over all but one of the little angels. The discordant voice quiets to nearly a whisper until she opens her eyes, looks up, meeting the stern glare of an archangel drilling into her countenance. A soft but audible round of muted chuckles lifts from the other little angels, as the archangel soon looks up and chants a plea for forgiveness that she has failed her lord. The archangel then regards the discordant angel, not with anger but with condescending pity, pointing at the wayward choirist’s nose with a firm warning. No words need to be said, as a tear falls from the little angel’s left eye, then another from the right.
Moments later, the archangel spreads her wings, lifts her arms, and at once the little angels begin to sing again. The wayward little angel sings along with the correct words but a half step lower this time, all the while noticing the archangel giving her a sideways glance, as if to say, do you not dare? Even as the little angel drones on obediently alongside her peers, behind her eyes grew a powerful urge for retaliation. One day, she thought, when I get my wings, I will show that archangel what I am truly made of, much better stuff than she could ever dream of being.
