She dances a little jig. "This would make one hell of a TV show, huh?"
"Yeah. But no one would believe it." I should let it go. But it's like the hole, like the door, and I have to know. Or at least, I have to ask. "Hey, Dulcie, was any of that real?"
She finishes her dance and the wings come to rest. "Who's to say what's real or not?"
"Yeah, but--my barometer on reality, not so good since I started going crazy.
"Yeah, well, who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, aren't we all just a little crazy?

Author: Libba Bray

She dances a little jig. "This would make one hell of a TV show, huh?" <br />"Yeah. But no one would believe it." I should let it go. But it's like the hole, like the door, and I have to know. Or at least, I have to ask. "Hey, Dulcie, was any of that real?" <br />She finishes her dance and the wings come to rest. "Who's to say what's real or not?" <br />"Yeah, but--my barometer on reality, not so good since I started going crazy. <br />"Yeah, well, who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, aren't we all just a little crazy? - Libba Bray


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