As she elevates her fine arms delicately in the air, the angel wakes light around her, illuminating herself, the clouds she stands on and the body before her. In between her frail pale fingers, she holds two clusters of small leaves.

With finesse and mindfulness, she closes her eyes and reads into the body’s soul. Memories, regrets, joys, and fears are entwined as words together forming a poem.

In the darkness of the night, she captures human beings’ lives, leaving their bodies to return to earth where they belong. His head rested on a blue midnight piece of fabric which used to cover his body, the young man gave his last breath to the angel. As he expelled the last invisible vapour of air, so did his inner life.

He now rests emotionless, the splendor of his muscular body translating how much he fought to remain alive, how this battle against the dark must have been challenging.

‘You fought well my darling,’ gently whispers the angel. ‘But you now belong to me’.

This is not a sad story, for any living soul is called back to where it comes from. No one knows how this happens, nor where the deceased really travel to.

They don’t. Their souls do. Attracted to the glow and warmth of their designated angel, the unseeable, untouchable feelings of mankind are caught into the light forever.