Angel

"Lucius," Muriel greeted me cheerily as she opened the door. "I'm glad you visited." She smiled, letting me in and wrapping me in a warm hug.

"Well, I was in the neighbourhood, and I didn't have much to do until later, you see." I told her, taking off my coat as I observed her new house.

It was simple — like her, like how she always liked things, quaint, homely. The walls a light blue, the times white and grey, furniture sparse, more boxes and plants than anything.

"Lovely you thought of me then," She rolled her eyes, laughing. She shut the door then walked to the wood coffee table, picking up a box off it. "Grab a box and follow me. Be careful and watch your step, dear." She said.

I followed her stead, joining her in the balcony adjoining her room from the living room, which also homed more plants.

She was always so fond of plants, of every kind, ones, especially that 'tugs on the heartstrings,' as she always says.

Muriel had been a friend of mine for as long as I remember; having first met her when we were twelve, abruptly coming up to me and introducing herself, pestering me incessantly afterward to join her for ice cream.

We've been friends since then.

We were both twelve when we first became friends, and we'll be both twenty-seven soon, her birthday next week. She was exactly a month younger than me, we laughed about before.

We stayed such good friends, despite my family constantly moving from town to town, city to city

— it was funny how I'd find that she'd move to the same place soon after.

"Muriel," I blurted, "you haven'y changed a bit since we were kids." I mused aloud. "I mean, your hair is constantly the same length, your voice didn't change a pitch either, and it was just as if you grew taller and more mature; I've never even seen a pimple on you."

"Are you asking me for beauty advice now, dear Lucius?" She laughed, turning to look at me, pot in hand. I laughed with her.

"I mean, considering how long we've been friends, and how often you'd find me in a dumpster." I chuckled. She turned to face me fully, a tender smile on her face. The late-noon sun gave her an ethereal halo from behind, and she was always so beautiful, so calming.

"Now that I think of it, it's kind of funny." I smiled, "You were always the one to pick me up before I actually became the trash I was."