“Please, tell me who you are,” I said. I am me, that’s all. “But the sheep man said you didn’t exist. And besides—” The girl raised a finger to her tiny lips. I held my tongue. The sheep man has his world. I have mine. And you have yours, too. Am I right? “That you are.” So just because I don’t exist in the sheep man’s world, it doesn’t mean that I don’t exist at all.
