I know you’re not real
After the panel podcast, Natalie stared at the screen of her laptop. There was a gnawing feeling someplace deep inside of her that was slowly expanding, like a beanstalk in her stomach that was winding its way to her heart despite her efforts to repress it. She got up from her desk and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She glanced at the glittery garnet flecks in the granite counter and half-smiled to herself. Then Natalie went outside to sit on the terrace. She had a meeting at two o’clock, and she needed to clear her head. Natalie opened a metal box that stood against the house and grabbed the pruning shears and a pair of gloves. Then she began clipping the spent flower heads in the rose bushes. Some of the browning petals had dropped and wer
