Michelle took a deep breath and called out loudly.
“Hey. Angels. I want to talk with you. C’mere.”
The garden was immediately filled to bursting with angels of every shape and size, from the giants who announced the birth of Christ to the more normal, Clarence-sized ones down to the little polltakers. They rose choir upon choir across every garden path and fluttering so thickly overhead that the sun was blotted out and Michelle could barely see.
“Oops. I forgot my voice would carry across all creation. I simply wanted to find out who’s in charge here.”
Every angel pointed at another. She looked at Valerie and Mary, “Any bright ideas?”
“No one out there pointing at themselves now is there?” Mary’s voice sounded as if she were talking to a three-year-old, not all of the angels in Heaven
