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Her Name Was Angela

Date: 5/12/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: mandycandi, Rating: 12, Source: LushStories

picture. The plague was pure silver and included a brief summary of Angela's life. Engraved across the top above the beautiful picture were the words: RAYMOND’S ANGEL - ANGELA NOEL LITTERAL - NOW OUR GUARDIAN ANGEL Nancy gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. The date of Angela's death did indeed make last year the twentieth anniversary of it. It was also the exact date that they had spent the night together. Nancy shivered to the core as her blood ran deathly cold. "Oh my God! That's her," Nancy gasped. "It was a terrible tragedy. And a very ironic one too." The man said solemnly. "What do you mean?" Nancy asked. "Almost from the moment she was born, Angela was helping people. No matter who they were or what they were into or how serious their situation, Angela would go above and beyond the call of any other human being to help them. She loved people so much! Every person she ever met, she absolutely adored." "I take it you knew her?" "This is a very small town. Everybody knew her. She was our angel. And the ironic part of it was that she even knew the young man that hit and killed her. She’d tried to help him clean up his act,” the manager explained. "What happened to him?" Nancy asked. "He was killed too,” the man said. “He was only seventeen.” Nancy felt faint and had to brace herself on the counter. "You gonna be all right, ma'am?" He asked. “Anything I can do for you?” "I'll be fine,” Nancy lied. “Guess it must have been somebody else after all. I wasn't very ... well that night after all. Anyway, thank you for your time." "You have a nice day,” he called after her. Nancy sauntered out of the restaurant and got back into her Corvette to pull herself together. Taking slow and deep breaths, she fired up the engine and drove to where she remembered Angela's apartment to be. Nancy jumped out of the car and raced up the steps to Angela's front door. Something was different. She couldn't pin it down, but something was definitely different. Gathering her courage, Nancy knocked on the door and within a minute, an elderly, heavy-set black woman who looked to be in her mid to upper 70s answered the door. "Hi," the woman said sweetly. “Can I help you? "Yes, I'm looking for an old friend of mine named Angela. I thought I remember her telling me that she lived in this apartment," Nancy said. As she was speaking, Nancy looked past the woman and into the apartment where her life had changed forever for the better. It was indeed the same apartment she remembered, but it looked nothing like it did a year ago. It was dank, dusty and dark; it had obviously been lived in for a very long time by the old woman standing in front of her. "Well I guess I must have misunderstood her," Nancy lied. "So sorry to bother you." “Hold up a moment sweetie pie," The woman said. “Did you say you was looking for a girl named Angela?” “Yes that’s right,” Nancy replied. “Angela Litteral.” The woman studied Nancy thoroughly for a long and awkwardly quiet moment. “And when was ...