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Richelle E. Goodrich

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“Gavin appeared and vanished numerous times each day checking up on me. Now and then he’d randomly pop the question, often disguising it within our conversations. “Did you know that bubbleberries are in season right now? They’re blooming all over Dreamland.” “I love those berries. They’re fun and strange.” I recalled the time that Gavin and I had burped up iridescent-purple bubbles after swallowing handfuls of berries. They were deliciously sweet. Gavin nudged me with his elbow. “Not half as strange as you are.” I laughed. “So, Annabelle, will you come with me?” I nearly spoke without thinking, but caught myself, careful not to slip and say the word, yes. “Sorry, Gavin. I can’t.”

“SCOTT JEFFERS: My imaginary friend has multiple personalities and one of them thinks he’s me. Obviously, this shouldn’t be a problem. And it wouldn’t be for most people. But it’s starting to get out of hand. The delusion is becoming unbearable. Yes, I know. It does sound crazy. But it’s not. I just need to find a way to get him cured of his multiple personality disorder. Or, well, at least that one. The one that thinks he’s me.”

“SCOTTIE JEFFERS: Okay. Everything he said is a complete lie. I’m not the imaginary one. He is. He’s one of my imaginary friend’s multiple identities. Not the other way around. I don’t know what I’m going to do about this. People look at me like I’m insane when I tell them this. Which, I guess, I understand. It does sound insane, I suppose. Well, I mean, no supposing. It does sound like absolute lunacy. But only if you don’t know me.”

“I got to believe that the people who can really be trusted are those who have kept their promises, not under the influence of pleasing people, but under the influence of doing what they have devoted their lives to be doing!”

“What would she eat? Meat? Vegan? Vegetarian? Pescatarian? More important, would her taste buds be open to spices? I call this research ocular reconnaissance. The woman meanders toward one of the butchers and points to a goliath-sized leg of lamb---definitely a carnivore. I wonder how she'd prepare her meal---perhaps with slices of garlic stuffed into the meatiest parts of the top, slow roasted with rosemary, with potatoes on the side, the juices, the herbs, infusing into everything. Served with a mint sauce? Or is she the type who colors outside the lines and does something less traditional?”