Two angels perch on a branch at the very top of a tree at the very top of a hill, looking down on all things from the edge of some sleepy little town, just as the sun comes up.
Well, angels can't to go where the sun doesn't shine, they can't stand in the shadows under a tree, or bug people in their houses or wander around in basements, 'cause they'd get disconnected from the Light.
Yah, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure they need to maintain line-of-sight, like, "where angels fear to tread" and all.
Well, I think the disconnected ones become ghosts or something, actually, that's why houses are haunted with things that can't find their way and stuff like that.
Anyways they don't have eyes, not like me and you, they ain't made out of cells and bits of organic stuff that react to light and replicate and transfer messages to an electro-chemical blob that turns it all into pictures somehow, they don't have any of that junk that gets buried in the junkyard when you die like a used car with cheetos crunched into the floormats.
I think that's why they say angels are blind.
But they ain't, not really, or at least not totally, and not all the time.
They just don't see the same as us, they don't see the same way we do.
But they also don't always see the same as each other, either.
In this case, the first angel on the tree can only see the evil in everything.
And the second angel can only see the good.
And they can stare right through all the roofs and walls and floors of the town and see all the evil and good in everything as it happens and argue with each other about it.
Yah, angels love to argue with each other, I dunno why, they could be hooting and hollering and singing and flying all over the place feeling the sunshine on their wings and enjoying creation and everything, but fer some reason, they tend to sit around and crab about shit to each other a lot.
Anyways all the evil-vision angel ever sees is a bunch of evil stuff everywhere.
So he's a little dark-n-moody, y'know.
He sees all the bad stuff that's gonna happen even before its gonna happen, he sees it moving through the alleys, he sees it driving to work.
And there ain't a whole helluvalot he can do about it, 'cause he can't go where the bad stuff usually happens.
Well, bad stuff hardly ever happens out in the sunshine, out there on the angel-turf, in front of the gods and everybody.
And the angel that sees the good in everything, y'know, you'd think that that guy would have a better outlook on stuff, seeing momma's singing to their babies, and kids playing in the alleys, and folks helping people who are hurt, and people falling in love for the first time, but he (actually angels ain't guys or gals, they ain't got any of that stuff that you bury in the ground to make the plants grow, but you know what I'm saying) ain't a whole helluvalot better.
'Cause as the good-vision angel looks around, he sees less and less good stuff going on, he sees all the places where the good isn't growing.
And he's mad that he can't get in there and fix things sometimes, too.
He's mad that he has to sit up here, on this tree, and just watch all the good stuff wink out down there, in the dark corners, without being able to do anything about it.
'Cause he ain't allowed to go in there where the light doesn't shine.
But that's his choice, y'know, he could look at it any way he wants.
Just like the angel that can only see the evil in everything could've decided to watch all the places where the evil wasn't growing, and take heart in that.
See, that's the problem with angels, nobody is immune to being the guy that goes around yelling at everybody about how somebody stole his sunglasses while he's actually been wearing 'em on the top of his head the whole time heh.
And the gods were apparently pretty stingy when they were handing out the sense-of-humors too ahaha.