angel of the lord Jason knocked on a door in a tenement hallway. A middle-aged ethnic lady in furry slippers answered. "I am an angel of the Lord," Jason announced. He showed her his badge, which indeed portrayed an angel. "Oh, my," said the lady. "Excuse me, ma'am, but the Lord requires the use of your telephone," he told her, pushing his way into her apartment. She recovered her breath by muttering a prayer. "It's in the kitchen," she told him. She wasn't sure what to do. Jason was already past her, talking in a low voice on the phone while sitting on her kitchen table. Should she rebuke him for his rudeness, which was evident to everyone but him? Surely this boy didn't really think he was an angel. What an odd claim! She began to notice the sense of his words. "It's a really sexy picture," Jason was saying. "I've seen it. It'll make you come just from looking at it. I'm not kidding! It will, really. Well, you'll see it soon enough. I'm bringing it over in a couple of hours. I'm on my way now to pick it up from Enrique"—ironic emphasis here—"its current owner." He looked up to see the lady standing in the door with a look of hate. As he watched she metamorphosed into Donna, a modish woman with a blond coif, a black headband, and a kitchen done in dark shades of linoleum.
	location: New York City date: 1990 average rating: [not rated] your rating (0-10):