JJ gave me a look across the dinner table. “So you admitted I didn’t really exist, that you once lived with me but now you live alone.”
“Yup. I thought it was time I explained how this blog works.”
He shook his head, popping a cheese tortellini in his mouth. “Essentially, I am a figment of your fevered imagination.”
“…Kind of. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Hand me the wine.”
I watched him fill his glass. “Things pretty much go on as they have been. It’s just that now people realize this is sort of an extrapolation of real and fictional experience–“
“–In other words, that you’re lying.”
“That’s putting it rather strongly.”
As we glared at each other, Suki trotted over and said, “If JJ can be a figment of your imagination, then I can talk. Give me food. Wait, take me out first. I’m tired of peeing in kitty litter. Do I look like a freaking cat?”
We both stared at her.
She raised a paw to my leg. “Out, then food. What don’t you understand about this request?”
I broke into laughter. “Uh, no…I don’t think we can have a talking dog in this scenario. Too bizarre.”
Her muzzle whiskers twitched. “And JJ isn’t? Really.”
“Feel like you’re on drugs yet?” JJ asked, one eyebrow raised.
“If I don’t answer that, will you become normal again and Suki stop talking?”
“You couldn’t be that lucky.”