The Dis Pater Support Group

The chair screeched as it slid across the floor. The local community hall smelt of must, old floor polish, and the much more enticing aroma of fresh pastries and coffee. The other seats had been arranged in a circle facing each other and all were currently filled. The late arrival pulled their chair into a gap the others made for them and, unfolding it, took a seat.
"Ah Odin, you old git. Didn't think you were going to make it this week."
The voice carried about the room with a slight echo given the height of the roof. The area also doubled as a sports hall for the local badminton and basketball teams. Dagda slouched at his comfort and waited to see if his old friend had a reply. Odin settled himself almost mirroring the other’s casual slouch, then cleared his throat.

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