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Anmedan Chapter 4: One, Two, Three and Four Michaels

“Hello Anmedan…”

“Hello Anmedan…”

“Hello Anmedan…”

“Hello Anmedan…”

Let me have some peace!

I was irritated. I turned around and was about to tell this person off, I was greeted by a tall, young handsome man, probably in his mid twenties.

Suddenly, my mind went blank and no words came out from my mouth.

“My name is Michael Ng.” He smiled and introduced himself.

“Sorry, do I know you? I mean… how do you know my name?” I was perplexed.

“I know you because I’m your guardian angel.” He said in a serious tone.

“What?! You are my… guardian angel?” I was more perplexed.

“Yes. I am.” He leaned forward and stared at me for a long time, as if like, checking my facial pores. Then, from his back, he handed me a black journal book.

“You dropped it just now.” On the first page, I saw these few words… He flipped to the first page and showed it to me… This Journal is Full of Highly Intellectual Information. If found, please return to: Anmedan (The one and only Anmedan :D).

Ahhh.. It’s my journal book!

“Oh yah, It’s mine. Thank you so much!” I didn’t even notice it was gone from my backpack.

“I guess I’m your angel because I returned this very important book to you.” Michael Ng said with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I see… of course. It is my most precious belonging.” I smiled back with appreciation and gratitude.

He looked at his watch and said, “Got to go.”

I thanked him again before he rushed off.

The cab just came. I hopped in and it drove off.


The first thing I started to notice when I hopped into the car was, I heard a song playing like Michael Jackson’s song… Heal the World.

Is it really Michael Jackson’s Heal the World?

The driver increased the volume as if I was requesting him to do that for me.

“Oh, okay. It’s really Michael Jackson’s Heal the World.” I muttered.

The driver, a slim man in his early fifties, heard me and said, “Yes, it is. I love Michael Jackson's songs. Do you?”

He started to talk to me about Michael Jackson and his songs throughout the journey.

He pulled the car in front of my house block.

I asked, “Uncle, what’s your name?”

He said, “My name is Micheal. Just call me Uncle Michael.”

“Sure, nice chatting with you, Uncle Michael.” I said while paying for the ride and alighted the taxi.

As I walked to my house, I became aware of something…


Michael Ng…

Michael Jackson…

Uncle Michael…

Hmmm, maybe it’s just a random coincidence?

As I opened the door, I saw a white envelope that was being slipped into the bottom gap of the door. Some handwritten words on the front of the envelope “To: Anmedan”.

I tore the envelope and saw a postcard. A blank white on one side. On the other side - it’s an image of…

Archangel Michael holding a sword.

Who will send me a blank postcard? Hmmm….

What!? Michael again… this time… is an Archangel…

One, Michael Ng…

Two, Michael Jackson…

Three, Uncle Michael…

Four, Archangel Michael…

Hmmm, when there are too many coincidences, it is not a random coincidence anymore.

< End of #Chapter4 of #Anmedan >

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