She brings artwork to me, a watercolor swirl of twisting lines in blues and purples, very chaotic looking. Of course I hold it upside-down, and with a disgusted sigh, she corrects the error.
"These are all the souls helping each other so they can become human again."
Where did the souls come from? People that died?
"Yes, and now they have to help each other before they go back to being human, or, or, animals, or, you know."
And is this Earth? this green spot here?
"It's all Earth. This is just the spot where the souls are."
What's this person here?
"This person is an angel, trying to help the souls who died to become something again."
But the angel's standing on the Earth.
Ah. Angels standing on the Earth is unremarkable. Of course. Anyone could know that.