The forum gathers.
Red Paw puts her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Told you so. Been telling you for 11 years.”
The small child/angel is sitting in a chair that morphs from regular boardroom chair to youth chair as she morphs back and forth.
“Nice job with the chair.” says Red Paw.
The two split and now there is a Small Child and an angel, sitting in two chairs.
Red Paw morphs too, into a bright red angel with a black halo and black bat wings.
The White angel nods and a feather drops. The feathers are bright white. Her halo is made of gold glittery pipe cleaners and attached at the shoulders.
Red Paw’s halo floats and seems to pull at the room.
The Quiet Woman sits in the fourth chair, with a cup of tea. “Anyone else?” she asks.
The others shake their heads.
“We are discussing the diaspora. Is it time to let them go?”
“Has been for 11 years.” says Red Paw nastily.
The small child nods.
The White angel says, “They want to believe what they want to believe. Let them go.”
“T, B, S, C, S, D, A, F, N, C, T, L, K, R and then next generation as well?”
All three nod.
The small child says, “They can contact us at any time.”
“They won’t.” says Red Paw.
“People can change,” says the White angel.
“And do they always?” says Red Paw.
“No.” says the White angel.
“I agree,” says the Quiet Woman. “We are done.” She brings a gavel down on the table, which rings like a singing bowl. The other three blur and melt in to her.
“We are done.”
The photograph was taken 2016 or earlier when Halloween was on a Sunday. I dressed up and so did the minister.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: forum.
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