Intro. (A quiet, hoarse voice coming from the darkness. Speaks slowly, with long pauses, as if each word comes with great difficulty)
I stopped counting the days. Years... they all mixed up here, in this hell. We called this "future" . Then this word seemed so distant, so... abstract. And now it's just "now" . "Now" , which has been going on for ages.
Do you know what the cruelest joke is? Angels are not supposed to sense time. For us it is a river in which we stand, watching the flow. But here... here time has become my prison. Every second is a reminder. Every minute is a blow.
I tried. Is it true. I tried to be what you wanted me to be. I drank this abomination that people call "whiskey". I inhaled the smoke. I was looking... at your strange paintings of moving people. It helped. For a while. The voices were drowned out. The voices of all those I didn't save.
(Pause. The sound of a raincoat rubbing against concrete is heard)
My cloak... it once smelled like Heaven. Ozone and light. And now... now he