Mentally adjusting his ocular acuity, James could easily see Abigail standing atop the float in the very center of the lake.
Walking across the mist-shrouded water as if it were as normal as strolling the cobbled pathways in the park, he waited for her to plea for leniency; they always pled for their lives when it was too late to matter.
She knew naught she could say would abrogate his need to fulfill his duty as one sworn to police the actions of Morphers in the world of mortals.
Seeing both the sadness and the resolve in his eyes, she shifted form to that of a stately grandfather clock, holding the form perfectly.
James understood her appealing to his long-standing relationship with her forebear and was almost tempted to let her “vanish without a trace” based upon that friendship, but in the end his duty was clear.
This story was written for the weekly Five Sentence Fiction flash fiction prompt: time.