“White lies and cream puffs, you’re just here to taunt me.”

“Honestly? That sentence doesn’t even make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to. You know what I mean.”

He coughed. She looked at him through black plastic spectacles, slightly annoyed, sighed and looked down at her pad of paper.

“Well, while you’re here, at least give me some damned inspiration.”

She raised her pen. He said nothing. Her pen wiggled back and forth above the desk, not touching the paper. It seemed to be pointing towards the window, so she got up and walked towards it, staring at the bleak desert town outside. He stood up after a few minutes of nothing being said, and walked towards her. After spending a moment looking over her shoulder, he walked towards the door and opened it.

She stopped him with a relevant question.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask me?” was his answer.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny. No thank you.”

He shrugged as he walked outside, letting any reply he had be blocked out by the closing door of the little shack. She lowered her head and sighed again, pulling her hair back from her face with a hand that almost immediately let it fall back down.

She turned around. He didn’t look back in through the window. He didn’t have to. She knew what he was doing and he wasn’t real, so there was no reason why he should care.

Frustrated, she walked stiffly over to a recliner in the room and sank down in it’s lush cushions.

Outside, a small girl knocked on the door. When no reply was given, the young girl sighed, shrugged, and began the short walk back to the small desert town that had been seen outside of a window.

The girl saw him enter a repair shop whose creaky sign looked like it was going to fall off of the wall it was nailed to and followed him in. There, she coughed to a small, dark, red haired teenager behind the counter.

“What’s the verdict?” the small one asked, nodding towards him. He seemed entranced by a pile of broken toasters on the opposite side of the store.

The girl next to the cash register didn’t even bother to look up from the paper she was reading. “Oh, she knows he’s not real anymore. I think she may actually let go him this time.”

The younger girl shook her head at this proposition.

“Doubtful.”

In the toaster corner, he smiled in satisfaction, picked up a toaster that badly needed repaired, and walked out into the small desert town.

Inside the shack, she threw her pad against the wall, frustrated that even though he was no longer real, he always seemed to be right, and forced her thoughts to simpler ones of cream puffs.