The second coming

So there I was, staring out the window, just minding the fit bloke
from next door's business, when BHAM!

An angel appeared.

It was wearing a white dress and was radiating whiteness like a light
bulb.

'Fear not!' the angle declared.

'Why should I fear a poncy little angel?' I sneered. 'I've had worse
things than this on trips.'

The angel looked slightly disconcerted, and scratched his halo. 'Fear
not!?' he tried again.

'Look, I'm not fearing, so if that's all you came to say then piss
off.'

'But I'm the angel of the Lord. You're supposed to go 'Please, spare
me!' and stuff like that.'

'OK, pleeease spare me! There, now bugger off.'

'Don't you want to know why I've come?'

I began to feel slightly sorry for the angel. True he was a
transvestite, probably gay hallucination, but he did look kind of cute
with his halo and blonde curly hair.

'No, but I suppose you're going to tell me anyway,' I sighed.

'Yes, I am,' he said shrilly. 'I have come to tell you ? you are
pregnant!' He crossed his arms in front of chest and looked proud, as
if he had said something unbelievably shocking.

After I felt the dramatic pause had gone on long enough, I spoke. 'I
know.'

Now there really was a dramatic pause.

'What?' the angel finally shouted.

'I said I know. I took a pregnancy test yesterday morning.'

The angel looked at me in disbelief. 'What did you want to take a
pregnancy test for?'

'Oh, you know, just a bit of fun, I love peeing on bits of paper. TO
SEE IF I WAS PREGNANT, YOU MORON!'

The angel scratched his halo again. 'But you're a virgin!'

'Then how could I be pregnant?'

'Because the Holy Spirit came upon you!'

'Well, someone certainly came upon me, quite a few people in fact, but
I'm pretty sure the Holy Spirit wasn't one of them.'

I looked around my bedroom. It was definitely my bedroom - the broken
vodka bottles, cigarette ends and scrunched up poster of Brad Pitt
certified that. I was firmly in the middle of the squalid reality that
was my home. Only the reality had been twisted into the strangest trip
I'd ever had. It was probably dodgy acid; I knew I shouldn't have
trusted that new pusher.

I jerked from my musings back into 'reality'. The angle was looking
dejected and muttering angrily to himself: 'I told Him, I said we
shouldn't have had a teenager from a council estate, but did He listen?
No! 'Look Gabby, we've got to be politically correct, we can't
discriminate against people just because they're financially,
hygienically and morally challenged. This is the Son of God we're
talking about, he's got to have the right image.' Pah! And I'll never
get that pay rise he promised. Pah!'

'Hey, Gabby,' I interrupted, before he sank any deeper into the swamps
of self-pity.

'What?' he said sulkily.

'I was just thinking, now we've got the whole baby thing sorted out,
would you mind buggering off? I've got to get ready for tonight, I've
got an important client to see.'

'Client? What client? Run a business, do you?'

'Yeah, you could say that,' I smiled.
'Pah! Anyway, I can't leave yet, not when the whole thing is still such
a muddle.'

'Why is it a muddle? I'm pregnant, you want me to be pregnant, so what
is your problem?'

'Well, how am I supposed to know whose baby it is? If you were a
virgin, then it would have to be the Son of God, but God knows whose
baby it is now. Actually, He probably doesn't! And He'll just blame it
all on me, like He does with everything. Cain murdered Abel, that was
my fault. Sodom and Gomorrah, and who does He blame? Good old Gabriel.
Anything that goes wrong in His creation and He takes it out on me. And
now the second coming gets screwed up and I'll probably get chucked out
of Heaven, not that it's that great anyway, I mean, some of the people
we get now, after God had that overhaul of entry requirements ? '

Again I felt a strange sense of pity for this pathetic thing, despite
the fact he was the product of a tab from a nymphomaniac asylum seeker
with shifty eyes.

'Look, Gabby,' I said, sighing. 'I always make them use a condom, so if
I'm pregnant then it is a miracle and it probably is the Son of God,
OK?'

'Really?' asked the angel, and his ethereal glow, which had dimmed a
bit over the past ten minutes, seemed to brighten up again. He
obviously didn't know much about lying, or the fact that condoms are
only 98\\% effective.

'Really.'

'So you are pregnant with the Son of God?'

'You bet.'

'Oh, that is good!' the angel said happily. 'Well, I'll be off to tell
the burglars and the three academically challenged men! Ta-da!'

And with that he vanished, without even a puff of smoke.

One month later
It's not that big a deal. Loads of people have abortions. The doctor
said it was my choice, and if I didn't think I would be able to cope
then I had probably done the right thing. I guess he would say that,
though. But I really don't think I could have managed a baby. I mean,
it'd have a crap house, no father, and me for a mother. Poor sod
wouldn't stand a chance.

All this was going through my head as I went to the toilet afterwards,
which I suppose you'd expect. But then I started thinking of that trip
I had just after I found out I was pregnant, the one with the angel. I
thought that was a bit weird, as it didn't seem very relevant.

So I just dismissed it and flushed the chain.