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The Many Plans.

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She sat in Her office. She was starting anew. A new world. With Her angels.

Opening Her book, She looked at the plans She had made years and years ago, and scanned over them. Battle of Waterloo sounded interesting. Dinosaurs? Ah, yes.

She ran Her hand down the page, looking over what Her angels would do over the next 6,000 years. Gabriel, of course would lead them, and Uriel, Sandalphon and Michael would back him up.

Aziraphale would be stationed on Earth, and Lailah would… wow, she would be doing quite a few things, She thought.

She moved to a second column, starting with Raphael, who would -

She looked again, “What?” She whispered to Herself.

In thick green ink, next to Raphael’s name, were the four letters She hated Herself for inventing.

‘FALL’

She had written this Plan millions of years ago, just as She had Created all the angels, and put it on the pile, to be completed soon. She had hundreds of Plans for the universe, and every-time She started anew, She would wipe all Her angels’ memories, and start again. Playing dice with the universe, again and again.

It was a lonely existence, and to be honest, God had no idea why She was there. Just as humans wondered why they were created, She wondered why She existed. She had found Herself there, one day, and after working out She could do anything, Her imagination had run wild.

So She had to puppeteer the universe. She hated that word, with an absolute vengeance, but it was the most accurate. She broke away from Her thoughts, and flicked through the Plan in front of Her, to find the half-page dedicated to Raphael’s life, in this version of Creation.

Raphael. He had been one of the finest angels She had ever created, and because of that, She hoped and prayed (which was pointless) that She had at least let Raphael have some joy in this story.

Looking down at his rundown, She noticed something unusual.

He had a soulmate. An assigned soulmate. An assigned, angelic, soulmate.

“ Aziraphale” She whispered to Herself, reading the word.

A relaxed sigh left Her lips, and She sat back, but tensed up at the other piece of information next to the ethereal’s name.

‘1941 AD’

Oh Someone. Hoping She was remembering the numbering system wrong for this version of reality, She flipped to the timespan page of the book.

God, in every reality, worked out a numbering system for that version. Easier to keep track.

Peering at the timespan page, She saw two numbers that struck heartache into Her hollow corporation.

‘4004 BC to 2019 AD ?’

They wouldn’t meet. They wouldn’t realise their partnership until just under 6,000 years into this Plan. Her head fell into Her hands, and a few tears crept down Her face, working their way into each crevice, before falling onto the Plan, staining Her cursed ideas from millions of years ago.

She loved all Her angels, with all Her theoretical heart, but She loved Raphael more than that. He was perfection, one of the first, with sea-foam eyes, and auburn curls, and the most amount of curiosity, asking about each new Creation and invention.

He was clever. Not like the other angels, who would just do as they were told, but he had imagination. The most amount of imagination, and it showed in his jobs, each reality showing more and more of his inquisitive mind.

Sitting back, hands tapping rhythmically on the table, breathing slowly and deeply, to try to calm Herself down. Running Her thin finger up the side of the book, She flipped to a random random page. A full page, dedicated to one human.

This was something different.

Leaning forward, She focused on the being, that She supposedly deemed so important, that a whole part of Her book was given to, a privilege not even given to Her angels.

A kind woman, middle-aged (for humans) was sketched on the right hand side, brown bushy hair sticking out everywhere, and a dress that was made for the no-nonsense woman.

“Agnes Nutter.” She spoke under Her breath.

She would be interesting.