We were deluged together in the raw, unbalanced Stuff of the universe. Inevitable consequence:
My own little reification.

I was made flesh, and in the process taken from him. I was never supposed to be real. How terrifying to confide your every doubt to an imaginary companion, to bequeath to him every alternative, and then one day turn and see him standing before you. Gonzo must be feeling so hollow inside, with me spun out and separated from him. It must be quiet and empty in there.

And that, of course, is how I survived being shot. Freshly minted, new, I wasn’t real enough to die.

Auteur: Nick Harkaway