You aren’t reading a story. You’re reading a woman trying to work through her fears of the future using the medium of fiction via characters she’s used for other works. This isn’t meant to be coherent, plot driven, or have much of a point, it’s just something I came up with one day when I was bored.
As you read this, I want you to ask yourself; are you a real person? When people look at you, do they see the person you think you are? What would happen if you became famous? Would you cease being yourself?
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