" buy a map."
she wasn’t in the mood to be helpful,
the only time she did feel philanthropic
was when she donned a suit and it was
required of her, but without the fallacy of
a superhero she regarded most things
as nuisances; fleeting faces to an immortal
who couldn’t possibly archive them all.
” what you lookin’ fer? “
“A map?” No doubt something the angel has heard of, yet
such a suggestion fails to help him in this particular scenario
– Castiel knows exactly where he is, no map will aid him; what
he needs is guidance and there’s nothing to be found on any map
for him. A low exhale follows and both hands are shoved deep
into worn pockets of the battered trench coat draped over his
contained form. “——– Purpose. I am unsure what to
do, now.” Spoken as if she’s filled in on the whole missing God
dilemma, the seraph forgets he’s in the presence of a human, not
one of his siblings.