“Why?” I asked, taken aback. “You’ve done me no harm.”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” said the angel again, tears now streaming down its face.
“It’s really no inconvenience, having you here,” I said confusedly. “There’s no need to cry.”
“That’s not why I’m sorry,” the angel said, wiping at its tears, an expression of hopeless regret on its avian features.
“Then why are you?” I said confusedly.
“I cannot say,” the angel said, starting to cry again.
“You do not know?” I asked, utterly baffled.
The angel did not respond, too absorbed in its own misery.
“You don’t know?” I pressed.
“I know all too well,” the angel moaned after a few seconds. But when another explanation was not forth coming, I asked,
“Then, please tell, why are you sorry?”
Another couple of seconds passed, and the angel, choking back more tears, said,
“I am sorry, because, even though you have shown me so much kindness, it is still your soul that I was sent to fetch.”