And so when winter arrives, flowers gloom,
The shadows of my tale; overhead they loom,
and let this beautiful fable unfold; let the facade be told...
.
It was a crowd, not just any everyday crowd we see when we patiently queue up for a brilliant ipad, or the same queue that kiasu Singaporeans stand in to get petty discounts... this queue was filled with angels, quietly standing in neat rows, awaiting God's judgement upon stage. A quiet and more secrete corner, partially isolated from heaven's glory, took a relatively long queue of angels that had not mustered enough courage to face our Creator.. a separate line had been opened to these souls.. Three, then four angels of doubtable character stood within this line, unknowingly part of the shameful community. But time was the essence, a ceremony to grant them their long-deserved halos was in due time but the queue did not seem to be in their advantage... the slow and draggy steps that the angels took every few minutes got them nowhere without the blessing of time... The mother angel called out gently, hearing their bereavements and she swiftly answered their calls.. The heavens opened up to her gentle pleas and they made a consensus: an express line had been established for their benefits but they would have to be judged in front of a panel of the most critical angels heaven has ever opened its gates to. Dignity was hardly an issue when the greatest event of their lives was at stake. They briskly climbed the staircase to their "doom", with gigantic pupils staring intently through their souls. All their sins since birth was poured out in front of their very eyes and laughter and shrieks were heard throughout the crowd. It was not an easy process for the angels but they endured and within moments, it had passed. There was still time to spare before the ceremony began and the angels looked at each other pleased.. their heads had been shaved to a tee and the new halos that they would be crowned with would best fit such purity... glees that can never be erased formed on their bubbly heads...
Perhaps such an idea of hope, through the art of shaving bald, may appear foolish to others and this lack of morality can never be incepted within our brains... whatever reality this may be, I know my totem will never stop spinning, not till my hair grows back at least :D