There were dozens of them, all walking in the same direction, all
looking the same. They wore black and
purple with flashes of gold and red and green.
They swooshed as they went, swathes of material flapping in rhythm with
their strides along the pavement.
They walked five and six deep, refusing to part for people coming
the opposite way. Some managed to
flatten themselves against walls or step off the pavement in time. Others were knocked to the ground and stepped
over by many feet, some kicking out by accident or to be difficult.
We thought perhaps it was a fancy dress party at first, one where
all the guests were sullen and debating gang violence. Then reports came from other cities that
similar groups had been seen on the streets.
These cloaked masses were appearing everywhere, all dressed the
same. All walking in the same direction
but miles apart.
Then someone suggested it might be a cult. But wouldn’t a cult try to gather in new
members instead of bowling them over?
There were no reports of the groups trying to gain more members of even
hurt anyone, beyond those knocked over.
Nobody had a clue about where they went, so the police began
following them. In every city it was the
same. They went nowhere. They just stormed along pavements and
walkways, as many abreast as they could manage.
They never said anything either, not to each other or to anyone outside
the groups. And they never seemed to
need to eat or drink.
When it became obvious they were doing no damage, meant no harm and
committed no crimes, the authorities lost interest. There was nothing they could do so they
returned their resources to more usual things.
Funny though, the streets did seem to be safer with these people walking
them. It was as if they provided a
deterrent by their simple presence.
They were like a charm in a strange way and we grew to not only like
them but to depend on them being there.
We felt safer knowing any minute a group of cloaked people might come
round the corner. If we felt it so did
those who might do harm to an ordinary people.
Social media rallied round them and online groups and followings were
massive.
Someone called them the Black Angel Appreciation Society and the
name stuck. It was much better than any
of the alternatives.
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