“You are the Chosen One.”
He didn’t look up from his phone. “That so?”
“Yes. Come with me and fulfill your destiny.”
He looked up at the tall, bearded man standing over him at the bus stop. The man wore a pointed hat and used a stick for a cane. “Listen, man, I don’t have any change.”
The old man scowled. “I don’t care about your human money. I care about your destiny!”
“Right.” He went back to his games.
The old man grabbed him by the arm and forced him to his feet. “Listen, you little punk–”
He broke free. “No. Get over it. I’ve gotten the letters and visions and messengers from you people. I’m not interested. Where were you 15 years ago when I was living under my uncle’s staircase, huh? Now you step in and want me to do some shit for you? Not. Interested.”