Ring
Ring....Ring Ring....Ring Ring
The phone
continues to ring, its volume getting louder, closer.
“You
enjoy all this, don't you?” Fiona asks accusingly.
“Mmmm?”
the Angel replies, once again distracted. “Enjoy what?”
“All
these little games,” she says, “The never giving a straight
answer, the little manipulations, the plots and the scheming.”
“Well,”
the Angel smiles, “It is my nature. A nature, I might add, given
me by the minds of men.”
Ring
Ring....Ring Ring....Ring Ring
“Right
then,” Fiona says with new purpose, “If you want my help, I want
yours. Tell me how to get that phone.”
The Angel
sighs with disappointment. “Very well then,” he says, “If the
question is how do you answer a phone that isn't there?” He pauses
for a moment, expectant.
“Well?”
Fiona demands.
“Then
the answer is simple: with your imagination.”
