I walked leisurely, my small feet barely making a sound against the polished tiles, my blue dress swaying with each step. The humans around me paid little attention to a child like me, and that was just how I liked it.
Then I saw them—a mother and her teenage son. The mother, a stern-faced woman in her late forties with her hair pulled into a tight bun, clutched her purse like a shield. Her son, Evan, slouched beside her, his hoodie pulled up, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation. His arms were crossed, and his sneakers scuffed against the floor as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
"Evan, I swear, if I catch you watching that filthy video again—" Martha hissed under her breath, though her voice carried enough venom to make a few nearby shoppers glance their way.
Evan rolled his eyes. "Mom, can we not do this here?"
"Oh, so now you’re embarrassed?" she snapped. "You weren’t embarrassed when I caught you earlier." She lowered her voice further. The frustration radiating off her was palpable. "I swear, if I didn’t drag you out, you’d be right back at it the second we got home. What happened to the values I raised you with?”
Evan muttered something under his breath, his cheeks flushing.
Martha sighed, her grip tightening. "I just wish you’d be more religious, Evan. More mindful of your soul. That kind of sin will rot you from the inside!"
Evan pretended to examine a nearby store display, his jaw clenched.
I tilted my head, watching the scene unfold. Ah, religion. Such a fascinating human construct—one they clung to for meaning, for control. And this poor woman was desperate to instill it in her wayward son. Well… why not help her out?
With a thought, reality bent to my will—seamlessly, effortlessly. Just… adjustment.
One moment, Evan was a disgruntled teen in a hoodie. The next, he stood in a modest nun’s habit, complete with a white coif framing his face. His posture was suddenly straight, his hands clasped demurely in front of him. His expression? Serene.
Martha blinked, then smiled warmly. "Oh, Eva, sweetheart, you look so lovely in your habit today."
Evan—no, Eva—beamed. "Thank you, Mother Martha! I prayed earlier for guidance, and I feel so at peace." His voice was softer now, almost melodic, dripping with piety.
Martha’s earlier fury was gone, replaced by pride. "I’m so glad you’ve embraced your calling, dear. You’re such a devoted sister-in-training."
"Of course!" Eva giggled—giggled!—and adjusted his coif. "Sinful things like pornography would never cross my mind now. My heart belongs to the Lord!"
Martha nodded approvingly. "You’re a blessing, Eva. Now, let’s pick out some nice clothes for when you’re not in your habit. Something modest, but pretty."
"Ooh, yes!" Eva clapped his hands together. "I’ve been eyeing that pastel pink dress in the window! It’s so girly and pure!"
Martha chuckled. "Then let’s go try it on, sweetheart."
As they walked off, chatting animatedly about lace and floral patterns.
Martha turn to Eva. "Eva—wait, no, Sister Eva," she corrected herself without missing a beat, as if it had always been this way. "Do you want to try that lavender dress too? Beside the that pastel pink dress you have been eyeing. It would look lovely on you for Sunday service."
Eva clasped his hands together, his voice sweet and earnest. "Oh, Mother Martha, you’re too kind!"
Martha reached out, adjusting his wimple with a fond smile. “Of course! After all, I’m so proud of the young woman of faith you’re becoming. You’ve been such a blessing.”
“It’s all thanks to your guidance,” Eva replied earnestly. “I’ve been reading the scriptures every night, and oh! Sister Agnes says I might be ready to lead the youth group soon!”
Martha’s eyes shimmered with tears. “Oh, my sweet child.” She chuckled, shaking her head.
As they continue shopping, they chatting animatedly about fabrics and Bible verses, I couldn’t help but giggle. The humans were so delightfully malleable. And this was only the beginning.
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