I looked around to be sure that no one else was nearby. Just him and me. My hallucination. My mental breakdown. “I know you’re there,” I called to him in a low voice. Then I added for the hell of it: “Talk to me.” I waited for an answer, but I didn’t expect to get one. Hallucinations didn’t talk back. Even so, by speaking to him, I felt as if I’d taken a leap into a rabbit hole, and I had no idea where it would lead me. “Who are you?” I asked. I still got no reply. The silence around me was punctuated by the patter of rain on the leaves. Then, like a statue coming to life, a voice spoke from
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