he turned out to be the devil

Hurrying somewhere through a public place, I heard a thud and the sharp knock of bone against cement behind me. I turned to see a man sprawled on the ground. He had fallen and broken his arm. Although I was keen to keep going, to be on my way, I knelt beside him to check on him. He was obviously injured, his arm broken. I asked someone to call an ambulance and I held onto him, keeping him conscious and doing my best to comfort him. I stayed for some time, waiting with him for help to arrive. As time passed, he began to ask me questions about my life, my family. I felt uncomfortable as his questioning grew increasingly intrusive. Finally, he seemed to have recovered from his fall - without the intervention of medical aid - and I left him to repack my suitcase so that I could leave. Somehow, all of my belongings were now strewn across the ground and, knowing that he would hide something of his in my bag given the chance, I checked everything thoroughly before packing it. Someone helped me to pack and I told them to look for anything strange as 'he would try to bait me', with the object of somehow tracking me. Sure enough, I found his necklace - a stylised silver cross on black leather - among my things. I threw it back over to where he was waiting, hoping he didn't notice. Unfortunately he did and he came over with the cross, insisting angrily that I should have it. Realising that he was the devil, I looked him in the eye and told him that I wanted nothing of his, nothing at all. My certainty drove him away.