She said – When you’re not reading me, thinking of me, dreaming of me….I don’t exist, like a lifeless marionette slotted back into its chest in a dusty attic. Abandoned by the animator. A soul ungoverned. An uninhabited shell devoid of all pabulum. Time moves both through and around me in drifts, ignoring the void in perpetuum. Um. Um.

But when you do…….I am a supernova capable of blinding a whole continent with the searing brilliance of my blaze, exsiccating every single ocean to a recalescent, immeasurable glass diorama.

He said – Shut up I’m trying to read. 

Then picked her up and began to leaf through her pages once again.

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