She was nailed onto a pedestal, a forced conduit that would forward their dreams to whom it may concern. They made pretty offerings and whispered pious prayers laced with malice, songs of praise lined with threat. Overtime the wings turned to stone. Celestial ears became deaf. They were alone again...naturally.
Even as a child I collected gossip. I hoarded nuggets for protection, currency and for power. The women dealt in it, it was their gold. Being invisible is a bonus. I stored my pickles in jars of blood.