The blue angel of death

The Blue angel of death

fiction
edward w pritchard

I met her at the Starbucks as the Blue Angel of death visiting America. She said she had just came from Hapsburg Vienna one hundred years ago informing all there of the death of The empire, Culture and way of Life.

The Blue angel of death does not come to tell individuals about their own death. The harbinger of death is foretelling the end of Culture, end of Civilization in total, in a particular time and place, an illusion destined to change drastically forever.

She does not converse with you over coffee about the pathos of War and destruction. She is intelligent, she is urbane, she is a goddess of beauty, she knows people in the know of your childhood veneration, she knows celebrity en mass. Unlike contemporary women she will speak of Art, always capital C, she doesn't gush about business, tax cuts,  stock prices or global trade and growth but instead as you talk asks about great books, fine music, architecture, great Men for the Ages.

She begins to steer the conversation skillfully pointing out your illusions of your County's lack of vulnerability. She Weighs with words the magical thinking everyone in your Society lives by. She talks of persons en masse feeling warm Security in the invisible cocoon all dwell in. She laughs how it's always truism at the end that all believe our leaders are mediocre, true, normally greedy and avaricious and ordinary, but our philosophical ideals, our system of government, our Kulture will endure for ever. 

Then she talks and you listen. She is foretelling the future. About Russia and China, secret alliances and mass armies attacking in the extreme cold across the Bering straight into Alaska and Canada. She mentions 40 million casualties in a low whisper.

Then she smiles one last time, Gets up to visit the ladies room and is gone never to return.

Your return to your life. Such a charismatic lady. What were those books she suggested you read.

The Blue angel of Death it's startling when she arrives, before you know it she's gone. It was a dream wasn't it.  Then off on the wind the love affair is over. The end of delusion has arrived. Pick up the pieces.

Who should you tell first.