“Betrayal is such a harsh word,” I said.
“Hush! Just admit you stole the bear,” my light friend advised from my shoulder.
“Fine, if it’ll get you to stop bugging me. Now get! I gotta pee!”
“Wee!” she shouted. I flicked my conscience into the sky, but she never got upset. Maybe next time I should pluck her wings.
“Beware of the Were-Mer-Bear,” she warned before she disappeared.
Where? Mare? Bare? What the? Foolish, useless conscience.