"Ah, a brilliant question! Yes I am real, and I'm not; depending on how you look at it. You see, on the one hand, none of you exist in reality. The only entity that exists is myself. I am really sitting on a linoleum kitchen floor somewhere in southern New Jersey, slave to a housewife and mother of three. It was on this very floor that I began daydreaming and came up with all of you. But that got out of hand when I decided to break the news to Harry that he wasn't real. You see, I got tired of imagining day after day in this silly little school and I wanted to move on to another fantasy. Unfortunately the characters from daydreams don't let go as easily as all that. Harry argued with me day after day about how he wanted to go on existing. But I told him I was tired. I wanted to move on with my life. On the other hand, maybe I'm full of shit. Maybe you all are having a massive hallucination and are not seeing a cleaning device speak to you at all. In that case, what could be the harm in telling me to go screw myself and go on existing regardless of what I think?
There was silence.
This is part 14 of my short story, A Taste of Wool. You can read Part 13 here. This is a bonus part. Usually I post parts on Wednesdays as a part of Wool Wednesdays, however Benjy pointed out that it's Yom Kippur tomorrow, so therefore Tuesday!