Angel and I walked back toward the trailer and met Avel and Pneuma standing outside chatting with each other. Avel’s radio was sitting right by the door, an antenna pointing outside the door. It was noticeably silent.  “No global wind angels yet?” I asked.  “Sadly, no. But I know one will pass by soon. Within…

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“My glasses are projecting a memory from the physical universe on the sky above,” I whispered to Angel.  “Actually, you’re picking up the signal from the library with your glasses and pulling in the security footage. I could see the wayward signal myself right here.”  “Wayward signal?” I glanced at Angel.  “Didn’t you have everything…

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Avel offered a hopeful smile and looked back at the trailer. “Speaking of the global wind angels, I need to head back to the trailer to listen in for any of them coming by.” I nodded in understanding and shielded my eyes in the direction of the trailer. From where we stood, it felt like…

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Angel and Pneuma did not answer my question at first. They both looked down at the floor of the car. Angel turned to look out the window behind him as if ignoring my question. Was my question that out there? A healing angel can heal an ailing President? Right?  Pneuma broke the silence. “Madame President,…

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Back at my apartment, I laid on the couch facing the ceiling. Through my left eye, I watched my right arm and left leg spasm while acid traveled down my right eye down to the tips of my right fingers and left leg. The falls and near trips continued to happen. The sudden loss of…

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Wyatt strolled with us as we walked across Autunno Canal’s bridge. “Tell me,” I asked, still looking at the single dark cloud in the sky, “where are you from, Mr. Castor?” “Sherah, Medard Tribe-Truinnsear Clan,” he said proudly. “Why do you ask?”  “I was just curious. I picked up a twinge of an accent, but…

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We stepped out onto the pavement. The sun was at its peak overhead. “Welcome to Harri Dam, Madame President!” a man of about four and a half feet tall appeared with a thick black beard and a white hard hat on his balding head.  He stuck out his hand for a firm and confident handshake…

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Pneuma led Angel and I out of my office and back to the foyer. By the time we reached the front door, three blacked out SUVs were waiting for us. There were no other markers indicating who we were.  “Why three SUVs?” I asked Pneuma.  “Oh, you take the middle SUV. Two of your Secret…

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Angel was uncharacteristically silent after Voltaire left the office. His eyes were distant, face serious…almost stormy. Pneuma was equally not her usual bubbly self. I looked at both of them unsure of what to say.  “Well…that was…interesting.” I sighed.  “Very informative.” Pneuma agreed. Angel still sat in his chair stony and silent. If I didn’t…

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Mr. Voltaire was a ball of sweat by the time Pneuma escorted him into my office. “Madame President…” he said between deep heaves. I couldn’t help but notice the sweat stains showing around his neck and under his pressed white shirt and tie as he bowed as low as he could. and offered a unique…

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