A while back me and my Boston friend were traveling in England. We met a boy, coincidentally also named Mads, who ran a shop. The weird thing about the shop was that it sold stuff from Matty, my Boston friend’s personal biographer’s, past. Things like the movie Bad Taste or a baseball bat for hitting mailboxes. The boy explained that he was Matty’s branch office in Western Europe.
I had a dream last night that I was stuck in that office. It was very disheartening to say the least. No one wants to be put out to pasture. I woke my Boston friend up and told him my fears.
"It was just a dream. We’re too cool to end up over there. Besides, we’re real, they’re fake. Real people don’t get stowed in branch offices. Now go back to bed."
I wanted to believe him.
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