“Here ya go, hons.” The waitress approached the group in their corner table and passed around their beers with ease. Mumblings of thanks rose from the group. “Hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s with the robes?”
They looked like young death eaters in their billowing black robes and high collars. They knew they were attracting wary stares from the rest of the pub-goers, but they were too distraught to care.
“We lost a friend today,” one of them, a frizzy redhead, spoke.
“Remember how we always made fun of him for looking like a bat in these robes?” Another member tried to lighten the air, lifting his blue eyes up from his beer. The group smiled in gratitude.
“A toast.” A third member raised her beer, her chipped yellow and black nails a sign that she had picked up her nail-biting habit again.
“To the bravest man we ever knew,” the fourth and last member of the group finished. He wiped a teardrop off his emerald ring as they downed their beers.
© Jade M. Wong 2016
Written in memory of Alan Rickman, may he rest in peace.
My submission for the photo prompt challenge provided by FFfAW. Word count – 174 (just made it!)
Credit for the beautiful featured photo goes to Isa Martine.