The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells

by Andrew Sean Greer

Is she sad, too?” “Not as charming,” she repeated. “She thought I was a hallucination.” “At least she told you everything.” A flash of anger in her face. “No one likes to be called a hallucination.

And then it was over. I looked at the broken glass around me. Dorothy, dewitched. Alice, unrabbited. Wendy, never neverlanded.