This morning was cold and gloomy. Students seemed tired and worn out… heck, I felt tired and worn out. As we assembled into class for a lesson of infinite series, an unexpected beam of sunlight burst through the dingy gray clouds. It shone through the windows at the back of the classroom, baptizing the room in beautiful, warm, orange light. At the same time, a student in the back of the room looked up at me, and I beheld a pair of white wings unfurl from behind his back and spread out, back-lit by a sea of clouds shimmering in the momentary explosion of sun.
I saw an angel.
But if their were angels, were there also gods and demons? Was there really another world of the divine inter-meshed with our ordinary humdrum one? Could this mean there was a divine task for me, an essential role in an even greater cosmic master plan? Was there a transcendent higher purpose formulated by a power inconceivable to human minds but gracious enough to hint at its existence by providing proof of it in the form of the glowing, winged seraph in my room?
Suddenly everything I thought I knew about the world was wrong.
At that point, the sun went behind the clouds again, and the room fell to its previous cold, grey florescence. The pigeon, who had been roosting on the ledge outside the window immediately behind the student, and who had been spreading its wings to feebly enjoy the brief burst of warmth on an otherwise cold and gloomy day, lost its footing on the ledge and fell off in a comical explosion of ineffective flapping.
And just as suddenly, everything was right with the world again.