Mementos

Luke answered the door. “We need you back,” said the figure outside, cloaked in a heavy trenchcoat.

“I’m not coming back, Michael,” Luke answered. “I told you that, long ago.”

“The War continues, whether you will or no.”

“It is free to do so. I’ll have no more part of it.”

“But…”

“Goodbye, Michael. Good luck.”

Luke shut the door on Michael’s protests. Habit guided his feet to the closet beneath the stairs and its hidden panel. They were still there, of course. The shimmering bronze wings, the fiery sword, the golden halo, glinting in the darkness.

Luke turned away.