The Journeyman.......The night before the morning after

 
Sometime later that day or possible sometime else.


I was drunk.  I freely admit that, in fact it would be hard to deny judging from the reports I received later (although looking through my pockets recently I found a grainy photocopied image of 'anatomy' and a Doctor's phone number written in biro along it).
 
Ludo had sourced a plentiful supply of both medical and commercially sold alcohol.  He opened bottles, sniffed content and mixed several together by pouring them into a glass scientific jar I wanted to call a test tube or beaker but was flat bottomed and swept up to a tube and spout (if you know what this is answers on a postcard) creating a disgusting washed out brown concoction only the truly desperate, alcoholic or average sports Uni student would consider imbibing.  Deplorably I now have to count myself amongst that number.

It tasted of burning.  That is all I can tell you and that is more than I wish to remember but it did have the desired effect and quickly too.

 "Drink more" Said Ludo, pouring another batch of liquid brown fire.
  "NoooooooOOOOoooOOooo." I giggled, I'll be sick. "Lets go now look for bad things." (OK I never said this out loud, it was what I wanted to express but instead it came out as a 'less goo, lok fr baaad fins.'  Luckily Ludo spoke hopeless drunk human and only gave me one more drink.

It burned.  My eyes rolled.  It went dark.  When the light slowly returned I had to blink my eyes because it looked like I was standing in a scorched dry meadow.   Then the real world fizzled into view like a reflection in a pond full of busy fish, swirling and rippling in and out of focus until it snapped back and then it really hit me.  My head swam, and for once I was thankful for the wheelchair, or I would have been if I could workout why I was moving and not moving my legs.  To even it up I did try to walk and I thought I was doing a good job of it as I seemed to be heading straight down the corridors even when I wasn't looking;  Oh how our proudest moments can turn into our secret shames.

I knew the plan, to look at people, identify anything 'different' or strange although I also thought It would be a good idea to chat up any good looking young people out there and find a kebab.
 
  "Keep what's left of your mind on our goal." Hissed Ludo into my ear after he pulled me gently but firmly back into our appropriated wheelchair.  "We have limited time and a lot of space in which to cover."

  Our path through the hospital was more indirect but with more pace.  As the corridors tipped from side to side I saw people, briefly but I saw them clear.  Their faces in pain and discomfort, boredom and waiting, concern and contempt but faces of men, women and children all in a place they did not want to be.  Others were here, around everyone and diligent in their activities, hair as golden as the first ray of light on the longest day - this is confusing to me as I could clearly see their hair was black or blonde and every shade in-between, but at that time it was golden and radiant.  They looked at me with a smile and they were beautiful.  One in a room would fill it with light and warmth and I felt safe;  but most of all I could hear strings, from what instrument I do not know even now but I hazard a guess at a family of large violins or something similar playing chords rising and falling like heartbeats, regular and necessary to sustain life. 
  In the real world Ludo said he could patients and nurses in their rooms all busy been looked at or doing the looking.
  The next room was cold, devoid of sound, all except the thumping of anxious feet on the floor, shouts from fellow drunks and the bellowing of communications -but compared to the last room it was silent and dark.
  Ludo told me after I explained to him what I had seen that Angels have been living amongst us for as long as we have been around - longer.  They love being near us and over time Angels (who are ageless) begat angels who still loved us and cared for us and were mortal like us.  So its only natural that those of us who are angelic, even very removed from the originators of their gifts, care for us still or are drawn to professions where they help.  The same can be said for Demons.  Those above us only know what led 'them' to mix their seed with us, but over the decades, centuries Demons became demons became thieves, muggers and .........you'll be surprised how many bankers too, it'll be easy to say anyone who likes hurting others for the fun of it or anyone who upholds petty rules for their own pleasure and dominance are demonkin; but sadly,  according to Ludo, don't under estimate the darker side of basic human nature.