Steven stood up, and his knees cracked. He’d never sat in one place for so long, and his body was feeling the effects. He thought back to what the angel had told him. When the war was over, Steven would get a new body with powers beyond his comprehension. He wouldn’t need the sawed-off anymore. He would have wings and eyes of fire, a face that would turn to lightning, and a presence that would make even the most hardened men bow down. Steven would have all those powers and more. He had only to make it through the war.

As he walked toward the end of the alley, he stopped every few feet to listen for unusual sounds. After eight hours in the same place, he knew what he was supposed to hear: the prattle of television sets, the crying baby in the middle of the block, the intermittent yelling from the wife whose husband was out of work. Now, as he walked through the alley, kicking trash aside and trying desperately not to be heard, there was another sound. It was the sound of kids in the nearby school who were out at lunch, laughing and playing the way he used to do, when times were simple and friendships were real. He envied those kids. He hated them, too, because they would never have to bear the burden of saving mankind from itself. That duty fell to angels like him.

When he reached the end of the alley, he looked directly across the street and saw the decades-old school building. He looked to his left and saw new houses being built on the opposite corner. It was a literal intersection of old and new, on a corner where life wasn’t easy. Steven had only to look at the construction site, which was devoid of workers due to the fallout from the financial crisis, to know that nothing here was guaranteed.

He ducked into the alley and listened to the children play. When the bell rang, he looked once more at the houses across the street and picked one that was close to completion.

With the children back inside the school and the streets empty because most people were at work, he waited a few seconds to look for passing cars. When there weren’t any, he took a deep breath and crossed the street. Then he pressed his shoulder against the door of the house and forced it open. Seconds later, he was inside.

He closed the door behind him and looked around at the exposed wooden beams along the walls. Then he walked into the kitchen area and sat cross-legged against the newly installed cabinets. He would rest there for a few minutes. He would wait for word from the angel. He would shoot dope.