Everyone has a side to tell.
Lucifer took off his heavy red cloak as it draped over your chair, the wrinkles snapping as it landed. He wiped off a thick bead of sweat off his red as a firetruck face, and smiled a large inviting smile as someone who has had generations of stories to tell, and someone you would invite over for rolls and turkey gravy. His large white teeth gleaning. Still we wondered, unsure, a little frightened of this behemoth before us. Was he really who he says he is, and if so should we be scared?
As he sat and rolled his pitchfork around in his hands, back and forth back and forth, feeling the cool metal, and it tinking against the chair, he looked at me, his brown eyes rippling large puddles and I found myself looking into them and being sent back into other times as he spoke, spoke of worlds I had never heard of and could not fathom. And grand halls, and dukes and great gatherings of angels across the skies and the crusades. He told me about God, though he admitted he knew very little. And at times he stopped to ponder over something he had said. Letting a word hand in the air as though there was a door just behind it leading somewhere else.
I just listened, letting the ice cubes in my glass of water slosh back and forth, and slowly melt into the water too.
After he left I shut the door. There was Gabriel and Uriel last week, and now Lucifer, whose next? I really should rethink the sign on the door. “Angels Welcome.”