The phone sat on my bed where it has been laying for a good half hour now and I have been standing over it staring hard at it. What was going on here exactly? Who was Romulus and why was he summoning me of all people? I had hoped that the years of growing up with my human mother and then growing up alone in a human part of town might have made the angel population forgotten all about the Thorn family or at least the Halfling child produced from the failure of a relationship. Frustrated, I pulled out a joint that I rolled last night from my pocket and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply. I grabbed a dirty plate from the kitchen sink and placed it on the table along with my camera and laptop.

I tapped the ashes onto the plate as I plugged my camera into the laptop to upload the photos I had taken in the park. A couple shots of the trees and the reflection of the water came out excellent. But then there was the photo of the girl. In the sunlight her hair seemed more red than brown, almost as red as mine. The green eyes were glowing in the light as well, but that was not what made them stand out. It was what seemed to be inside them. There was a fire in them. I could imagine her standing at the top of stairs of buildings or maybe even the roofs of the buildings screaming, “Viva la revolucion!” and standing up for whatever it is she is fighting for. And I would be there, taking photos of the riot she started for the newspaper’s articles about it. And then she would be on the front page, hair blowing around and the fire from her eyes fully ablaze. Despite this fire there was still a softer side to her face. Her features were small and elven like. All in all, she made a beautiful photograph.

I printed the photo out and found a blank space on a wall in my photo room and pinned the newest addition up. The fire inside her seemed to warm up the whole room and made the sadder photos of homeless people, lost angels, myself, my mother, be filled with a new hope to them.

I looked at the time then: nine o’clock. It was time to head into the angel side of town to make more money. I grabbed my ratty, old, small cloth backpack and filled it with my camera and the bag of weed I purchased from a human earlier that week. It was a decent sized bag, about eight ounces, although I had smoked some of it since I bought it. I had to pay a hefty price for such an amount from the dealer, but I knew that demand would be high in an angel club and town that I could raise the price high enough that I would manage to make a decent profit. I glanced at the phone with the strange message and threw it in my pack as an afterthought.

As I entered angel town, I did manage to get a couple of strange glances. My clothes weren’t the nicest clothes around and I haven’t gotten a haircut in a long time and in angel town, most men had perfectly trimmed hair. No one came up and questioned me though so I didn’t think much of the stares. In time I finally got to my destination. It was the Club Halo, a name I couldn’t help but snort at as considering very few holy things happen inside its walls. It was where I made the most profit though so after a little chuckle and after a nod to the bouncer, I walked in.

The End

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