In the early Nineties, several friends of mine were fascinated by angels, and that piqued my interest. I began listening for mentions of angels in music or noticing images of angels in art. When I worked in a cubicle that had windows, I created privacy by papering those over with angel postcards, most of which were gifts. It was during that same time that Lynne and I were painting a lot of ceramics, and one day I admired the two pieces in the picture above among the greenware where we shopped for supplies. Lynne later bought and cleaned them, had them fired, and painted them as gifts for me. I know they are meant to celebrate Native Americans and totem spirits, but to me, they look like Native American angels–and sexy angels, at that.
There’s something enticingly forbidden about the idea of a sexy angel, and I think that’s why we often find references to them in stories, including Trebor Healey‘s contribution to Foolish Hearts, “Three Things I Pray.” The narrator has fled from the erotic circus (literally!) of his life in Los Angeles to Buenos Aires, where he’s ensconced himself in a tenth floor room with a balcony and a view of the teeming streets beneath him. Pigeons share his balcony, and one morning he’s awakened by the sound of one crashing into his window. Though he tries to get back to sleep, the noise ten stories below finally drives him out of bed.
Buenos Aires means “fair winds”; you can find out whether they deliver an angel when Foolish Hearts: New Gay Fiction goes on sale January 14, 2014.
Excerpt reprinted with permission from Cleis Press. All rights reserved.