Trot

A whisper:

"Well? What did they say?"

Benjamin Franklin scanned the last paragraph of the letter, harrumphed, and shook his head slowly. He turned to gaze through the fine latticework of the wooden screen.

"I'm sorry, my friend."

The small shape on the other side of the confessional let out a gurgling sound which burst frantically into a throaty, rattling warble. Benjamin put a finger to his lips.

"Shh!! Quiet, Titania! They'll hear you."

Her outcry dulled as she shook the indignation from her hide. Neither of them knew it, but she spoke with the voice of Julia Child.

"I just don't underSTAND it, Ben. Your campaign was flawless; your logic, sublime. How could they fail to see...that which you see in me?"

"Men are fickle creatures," he responded, rubbing his balding temples. "They follow vainglorious images of power and majesty, casting aside subtlety in favor of panache. Even men of vision are just that: led to that which captivates the wandering eye rather than that which enlivens the spirit."

"You're pontificating again, Ben."

"Sincerest apologies, Titania. You know how I lament the death of reason."

Candlelight skipped in past the voluminous curtains, through the tiny gaps in the wall between them; thus he spied the face of his confidante, a mosaic of red, blue, and white.

"I remember when first we met," murmured Ben, "in the woods outside Philadelphia, those three years ago. Do you remember?"

Titania scoffed as much as chuckled.

"How could I forget? You were stark naked but for your spectacles."

"And you were a vision in brown and gray. How I do long to gaze upon you now."

"Please, Benjamin, such talk!" hissed Titania. "You know I'm married to Christ."

"I know, Sister, I know; just as Thomas prophesied."

"That was a wild night at the Masonic lodge," Titania sighed. "Strange that Mr. Jefferson tried to woo me before the spirits got hold of him. Well…certain spirits, anyway."

"Happenstance and coincidence serve to teach us many an indispensable lesson, should we prove assiduous students."

"Spoken like a true inventor. How's the fart perfume coming, by the way?"

"Slowly and with little to show for it, much like this fledgling federation to which I've pledged my fealty. It seems my efforts are worth naught but a fart-hing."

"Getting a lot of mileage out of that joke, Ben."

"Mileage?"

"Don't worry about it."

They sat a moment in silence, relishing the tranquility of the nave. Evening cast its spindly shadows over the pews.

"I should return to the cloister," muttered Titania. "The other Sisters will wonder whither I've scurried away."

"Titania."

She turned to sight a hint of sparkle gathering among the blue of Benjamin's eyes.

"I tried. I really tried."

"I know, Ben. I know."

He produced a handkerchief embroidered with eye-capped pyramids and dabbed.

Then he wiped away his tears, taking a deep breath.

"What's to be done now?"

"The eagles will have their day, as TJ foretold. Eras and empires rise; they waver; they topple. It's the way of things. When the cycle renews, when a new empire stands on the ashen ruins of the old, my people will once again seek out our champion. I only pray that my next incarnation should cross paths with a soul as noble as my dear sweet BF."

Ben chuckled, "Your praise brings joy, but little comfort. Your people suffer grievous injury and indignity here amongst my kin."

"'The meek shall inherit the earth,' as my husband once said. I have faith that he was right; just not about this earth."

Benjamin shifted in his seat.

"Do you think…do you think I'll ever get to see it? Fair T'rd'kent'rk?"

"I do. If not in this life, then in the next."

A non-Liberty bell rang out from the tower.

"That's my cue."

Titania gathered her disguise about her, placing her scaly feet upon her stilts, her habit about her shoulders, her puppet arms and head through the respective openings in her gown.

When at last she emerged and took Benjamin's hands in her own, it was in the form of Sister Euphemia, well known throughout the Greater Philadelphia Area for her compassion, poise, and an extremely rare, possibly unique case of Wooden Face and Hands Syndrome.

"Fare thee well, Benjamin Franklin, Human of America."

"We'll meet again, Lady Titania, Turkey of System Chi Omega 12."

She wobbled off into the night, gobbling softly.

Inspired in part by the fever dream chaos podcast, Hey Riddle Riddle, specifically the episode entitled "Paul Turkey Mall Turkey."