The next day was the strangest day of Mick Dunn’s life.
He was awakened by a vaguely familiar voice in his all too familiar mobile home. Never had he felt a hangover like he had now.
"God what happened last night? What day is it?" Mick mumbled as he turned to check his clock. Eight, it must be in the morning, but what day is it?
He grabbed a cigarette and his lighter and lit up.
"Oh that’s right, I had that strange dream about--" Mick was mumbling to himself, but he heard that voice in the other room. "About Ben Franklin."
Without showering he threw his jeans and a T-shirt on, and scampered out to the living room. Benjamin Franklin was seated in Mick’s favorite recliner. Julie and his kids Donna and Don sat on the couch across the room. They stopped their conversation to greet him. The kids jumped up and grabbed his legs.
"We showed Mr. Franklin our whole house," Donna proclaimed.
"Yeah and he says he likes it," Don chimed.
"Oh he does! Really?" Mick glanced at Julie, his wife smiled, but said nothing.