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Imagination
I close my eyes and enter my world. It’s a nice place in my head to converse with someone during tough times. In there, the air is usually warm and clean, the trees float away and become clouds. Flocks of birds fly in spiral, boring holes into the streaky sky. A path extends ahead of me and gently carries me to its end. Things fade away. It gets darker, the air weighs me down. I can see a platform, with the texture of a cotton ball ahead, much further below in the darkness.
I’m on the path, and he’s looking at me. He’s that guy I talk to very often, almost everyday. “Hello,” he says.
“Hello,” I said. “What are you doing? I don’t know. But why are you here? Probably bored, I guess.”
“That’s what I want to ask as well. What are you doing with your life right now?” He leans up and looks me dead in the eye. The platform bobs unnaturally. Small tufts of soft string fall off, shrinking into the abyss beneath me until nothing is left. His legs push him up, and he was remaining stable on the crumbling platform. I look around, seeing only void and him.
“Uhhh…” I stutter and scratch my head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Or do I? I don’t think I do.” I replied.
“You are disappointing. Go get something to eat, get out.”
I nod in agreement. “Am I though? Yes, I might be… No, I very likely am.” I open my eyes.
I’m anchored into this more hospitable world again, face down on the pillow. “What was I doing here? Whatever.”
I walk a few steps to the kitchen and open the fridge. Inside, there’s a delicious yogurt cup.
That was tasty. I liked it. It was enjoyable, and better than being back there for now.
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When he is responding to the person on the platform, he asks himself the questions before responding to anything. He asks the person “What are you doing here?” and “Why are you here?” but responds to each of those himself. I also tried to show the character being very dissatisfied with his accomplishments.