“The flood wasn’t my or any other angel’s doing. It was God’s. At the time, a lot of us didn’t understand, but now, having met a human, I’m getting a pretty good idea why he did it.”

The man stuck a finger in Qaphsiel’s chest. That hurt, too. Were all humans this pointy and painful?

“You don’t like me?” said the man. “What are you going to do about it? Take away my house and sandals? Oh wait, I don’t have any because they all got washed away!”

Qaphsiel’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Though I’m not the angel of Death, I’ve been charged by the Lord with finishing his work. The great flood was supposed to purge humanity from the Earth. Yet, some of you remain.”

The man shook his head.

“Not that many. There wasn’t much room in the boat.”

“There are others, scattered around the world, on islands and high peaks like this. Enough to repopulate the world. That is why I’m here. I’m the Lord’s hand in this matter. The wrath of God on Earth.”

“You said you were in charge of paper clips.”

Quietly, Qaphsiel said, “This is my chance for a promotion. Really. So yes, this isn’t at all what I usually do, but destroying you people is getting more appealing by the minute.”

The man smiled and backed away, holding up his hands in mock fright.

“What’s your plan? Murder us with an inkwell? Stab us with a stylus?”

“No,” said Qaphsiel. Storm clouds gathered overhead and the mountain turned dark. Lightning spiked across the heavens and crashed to the ground, exploding the rotting whale, sending a great blubbery rain down around them.

“Behold! The Apocalypse is nigh!” Qaphsiel shouted.

Tiras looked around, his eyes darting back and forth in their sockets like they were trying to figure out how to get away from the rest of him.

“Listen, Qaphsiel. I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. No one’s been sleeping or eating much, and I have this low-blood-sugar problem.”

“Too late, wretched mortal!” thundered Qaphsiel, and the Earth rumbled beneath them. Tiras backed down the mountain away from the angel. Qaphsiel felt good. He felt powerful. Yes, he was going to enjoy obliterating these people and finally leaving office supplies behind.

He looked down upon Tiras and said in a voice that made the sky tremble, “Behold the instrument of thy destruction!”

Qaphsiel plunged his hand into the pocket of his gossamer robe . . .

. . . then his other hand into the other pocket. He patted himself down and looked in the silk bag he kept tied to his belt. It was empty. He turned in a circle, scanning the ground.

“Hmmm.”

The object was gone. Qaphsiel looked down the mountain.

Humanity continued to crawl across the face of the Earth.

“Oh, crap.”

TWO

Earth. The present.