“It’s shadows on the wall of a cave, it is. Nothing that happens is really real. Just neurons firing in the soft butter of our brains. So why not change things? He leans across the table, his pint glass slopping beer onto the already-swimming surface. He stabs his finger into the wood. Why not change things?”
A story about a conversation over breakfast, and a refusal to accept the inevitable. Published in The Fake Press. Read online here.