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ANGEL IN THE ROOM. It was a cool evening and we were up in the attic passing the green around, there was a little bit of background music and cosmic conversation was vibing through the air. The stars were glistening above through the glass of the hatch window, and the moonlight was all over the shallow water in the bay. It had been quite a day of exploration out on the moors, and we were all feeling well grateful for the comfort of the armchairs and sofas. Far from feeling tired though, the conversation often burst into laughter and the hyperactive silly factor was hitting fairly high levels, as you can imagine when the youth are just left to do their own thing in a very tall house by the sea. Every so often, one of us would say something so off the scale funny it had us all nearly falling off our seats. The kind of laughter that makes your face hurt until you are asking will you please stop it, just please don’t say anything else for a while I need a break. Somehow, later in the evening, we all calmed down. The vibe went crisp and hit a certain frequency where it was like the air was full of something that you can’t really explain. I’m not talking about the smoke; we had cracked the hatch and there was airflow through the place. It was like there was a kind of presence that I could sense in the room with us. I kept really still, and while the others were still talking, I drifted off from the conversation and started to pay close attention to the air, that seemed to be becoming thick and moving around in the middle of the room in a way that looked similar to water. I glanced at the others to see if they had noticed anything, but they seemed to be quite absorbed in whatever they were talking about. Then the strangest thing, as I looked back into the center of the room, the air had become so thick it had moved around and pushed together into a tangible, misty, glistening form. I nearly couldn’t breathe for a moment as I glared at the figure in front of me and tried to comprehend what I was seeing. There, about a meter and a half in front of me was the figure of a being of which kind I had never seen before. It had arrived at the exact moment that I had looked away, and took on a form that was kind of humanoid looking, but that I could only describe like this: Back before they changed the famous statue called ‘The Thinker’, the being had it’s right hand closed in a fist and pressed up to it’s forehead in a similar way. It was crouched down on the floor with one knee on the ground and the other one up to its chest. Although I could see it, I could also see through it. Similar to how the Predator looks when it has the cloak on in the movie. I didn’t want to alarm the others, and they hadn’t even noticed that I had gone quiet and frozen in my seat with my eyes transfixed into the middle of nowhere. Probably they were used to seeing me like that because I would often trance out a bit before I started talking really cosmic. I’m just tuning in. Or am I? I thought to myself, maybe I’m just tripping? This is just some cool s**t I’m imagining because it’s been a long day and I’m high as funk. I kept still and said a prayer. I asked, am I really seeing this Angel In The Room? I guess I must have fallen asleep shortly after what happened next because I don’t remember much after that. The hatch was only open about an inch, if that, and it was at a 45 degree angle on the roof, so it totally blew my mind as The White Feather came in through the gap at that exact moment and gently sailed through the air, settling on the ground at the foot of the figure.

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