Cause I don't wanna know

[impersona]

This prompt was really a DURR for Warren, so I challenged myself to use a different character for it.  My dearest Galen answered the call of duty.  Which is an oops now that I think about it, cause I wanted to abuse him for tomorrow's prompt...

Series:  Angels (hello to kicking a dead horse)
Character:  Galen

Galen tipped the cap further over his eyes.  He didn't trust the crowds at Heathrow airport, disliked every gaze strayed in his direction.  He liked the giant television screens in the terminals less, heralding the breaking news which shook the world.

Angels exist.

"This won't just blow over, Mum."  He spoke patiently into the payphone, though his eyes moved anxiously.  "Listen.  I called Zia Guilia.  I'll work her vineyards for a month, maybe two.  I need time to make a plan."

He watched the crowd, and wished he embodied something that awed - the Sun, or Deliverance, or Water.  But to Heal, that does not awe.  It promised.  It obligated.  In seeing an answer to pain, the world would cry out his name, and never see him for their need of it.

Galen feared that cry, that great, terrible roar.  Even now, he felt he should forgo Italy, join the others at their conferences.  He would see the people, receive those who sought him.  And there would be too many.  He would go insane helping even only the most deserving.

He refused to die like that again.

"No, don't interview with anyone-" Galen groaned.  "Just put Pops on the line."

Comments

[mindsplinters]

Oh, Galen. It's like a tug of war inside him but, for once, he's going to lean towards self-preservation... And he's going to feel bad about it.

[tatterpixie]

I love this. You really get a sense of the tension of the situation reading this. In fact, I think the restrictive word count works in favour of that -- it makes it concise, and urgent. Poor Galen...