God's Gone AWOL

[9] Mere Objects

Paris, France.

It was oddly cold in France that spring. As if being under Nazi occupation wasn't enough, a sudden wave of freezing temperatures killed all of the freshly planted crops, making matters infinitely worse for the people of the nation. Food was already scarce, and the constant stress of living at the epicentre of World War II wasn't great either. All and all, it was not a pleasant place to be living in 1941. But for many people, France was the only place they had ever called "home", so leaving it behind still felt impossible.

Atticus made his way down the busy streets of Paris. He had already changed out of his traditional angelic robes and into a plain white human outfit. If he was going to leave his old life behind, he might as well start by changing his clothing. So he took a quick moment to observe the local humans around him before adopting a suitably casual outfit that wouldn't draw any unwanted attention.

Behind him, a large military vehicle packed with armored Nazi soldiers wheezed by. Like everyone else on the street, he pretended not to see them and continued on his not-so-merry way. After a few more blocks, he finally reached his destination —but suddenly found that he could not go inside.

Hidden away on an unremarkable Paris street, surrounded by little shops, studios, apartments and other unremarkable mortal settlements, was a little wooden sign. It hung neatly above a little white door coated with fresh paint. The pair were tucked quietly between a bakery and a general store and most people who walked past didn't even bother to give the place a sideways glance. In fact, if someone were to ask one of the people who walked down that exact street every day, they would probably say they had no idea such a little door even existed. But Atticus knew.

He had never visited R & F's Cupboard of Perfectly Legal Things before. However, he had certainly heard about it —nearly every angel who traveled to the Earthly realm on a regular basis had heard about it. Although it appeared to be quiet and unassuming, so as to ward off random mortals, the Cupboard was actually filled will all sorts of artifacts from all across the four realms. From forbidden books about ancient rituals to rare magical crystals, the Cupboard had many strange things.

Down at the bottom of the dusty staircase Frances and Reuben sat across from each other, their heads bent low over a stack of paper. Beside them, a new radio hummed out a series of of English words, read out by a man with a soft London accent. Dust hung in the chilly air and clung to the limited amount of furniture and display boxes. Despite being the central business for divine objects, the place had seen better days. —So had its owners for that matter.

"Are we still waiting on the scriptures from Rome?" Frances asked, their pen hovering above the lines of an invoice.

"Not anymore," Reuben answered with a sigh, "The Nazis stopped the truck and burned half its inventory. None of the religious texts escaped,"

"Ugh. Not again." Frances tossed their pen down. "I still think we should move the shop and escape this place while we still can."

"We've only been here for half a century. With any luck, this war'll blow over soon," Reuben told them, "Until then, we can still rely on Heaven and Hell to help us out once and a while,"

"I know. I just don't like living under Nazis,"

"Me neither, Frankie,"

Right then, a quiet ring! from the top of the stairs announced someone's arrival. Instantly, both Reuben and Frances tensed in unison. Frances quickly leaned over and changed the dial on the radio, replacing the BBC broadcast with unassuming French jazz music. They held their breath in an anticipating silence as a set of slow, careful footsteps came creaking down the stairs.