Peter’s wings felt heavy. He had been attached to the ceiling for what felt like an eternity and he was starting to lose patience. How long am I going to have to stay here? He thought.
Below him the cavalier was balancing on the edge of an abyss holding his beloved’s hand, and desperately trying to stop her from plunging to her death.
A horse whinnied in the background and the sounds of men shouting and gunfire could be heard echoing through the hills. Sweat was dripping from the cavalier’s brow and his grip was loosening; only his will prevented him from letting go.
Suddenly it was time for Peter to be heard. He was lowered into the abyss. The steel wire creaking as it edged him closer to his moment of triumph.
But then the hook on his back gave way. The wire snapped and Peter plunged into the abyss. His trailing feet caught the cavalier’s back, sending him and his beloved toppling into eternity. Peter’s smock billowed as he fell - stealing his dignity.
All three landed with a thud and stared into the eyes of a winged angel.
“Three foolish thespians.” Said the angel and ushered them through the gates.