When Simon woke up, he saw a man staring down at him. He had dark hair and brown eyes.
“Are Du God?” Simon mumbled, thinking he was dead and in heaven.
The man chuckled. “I’m not God” he spoke with a British accent. “You’re going to have to stand up”
Simon shook his head. “I can’t” he panted, as the pain came rushing back, along with his memories. “My leg…”
“Why, yes, that is exactly why Du should stand. I don’t feel like carrying you”
Simon closed his eyes, and frowned in pain. “Who are you?” he asked, groaning.
“Stand up, then I might tell you”
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