My Angel

  The clock on the wall read four thirty-five a.m.; he laid awake staring at the ceiling. His dream was waking him completely. The dream was always ending the same way, only this time it was Nadia's face. He shook the dream away and decided to go for a morning jog to clear his head.

   His feet hit the floor with a thud. Walking to the dresser on the other side of the room, he opened the top drawer and grabbed a sleeveless t-shirt, and threw it on over his head. He searched the bottom drawer for his favorite pair of jogging shorts, red with a small tear at the knee. If anyone were to see him dressed like this, they would assume he was a bum and not a multi-millionaire; truthfully, he didn't give a shit what people thought of him. Not today anyway.

  He walked into the adjacent bathroom and splashed a little water on his face. The man staring back at him had dark rings around his eyes and a five o clock shadow. His dark black hair had

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