Mickey began, “Good, at last I have your attention.” He put his hand across the table and lifted the hair from Ben’s forehead to expose the healing wound.
Ben pushed him away and scorned at him. “I said you could talk, not touch.”
“I just wanted to see how you were healing. You know, that’s going to be a nasty scar. Good thing you can hide it under your hair. That night you fell in the ice, you were too drunk to realize the pain from the cut, you really should have gotten stitches like your friend suggested. Ben, your fall was fatal that night, that is until I stepped in to change your destiny. You see, Ben. I am an angel.”
Ben looked at Mickey in horror, and then looked around the room to see if anyone was in hearing distance. He stood and glared down at the old man. “Ok, I’ve heard quite enough.”
“Oh sit down and shut up, Ben. You’re not going anywhere until I finish my story.” His voice was deep and deliberate, giving Ben a chill.
Instinctively, Ben lowered himself into his chair and stared across the table.
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