Cassandra Told Me A Story

Cassandra told me a story, a fictional story, she said.

“I love someone fictional.’ She stare blankly at the distance sky out there. ‘He touch my heart like never before. I made him. I love him.’

I grab her shoulder, ‘Im envious.’

‘Why?’

‘I have too much drama in life, I get sick of it, but then I still ask for more. Why is that, you think? I love someone real,  But their image and the feelings I had for them, I dont know if it’s real. Im such a weirdo.’

Cassandra lift her hands, and pat me back softly, ‘You live in a fiction. You act like a fiction. You think everything is fiction. And something that’s really real slips out of your hand.’

‘You too, then.’

She grin her teeth, ‘Of course. Fiction is an addiction. Reality is too boring. 

Reality is too real of a variety.’

‘Yes ....’