Again they made virtual love. Again it couldn’t tell her it was merely a program. She already knew, but found his deceit touchingly human.
My finger lingered over the key. I needed to end our online friendship. But it’s hard to end things with a friend that died three years ago.
Thick mahogany hair, a sly smirk, caramel eyes, flexing biceps beneath a crisp linen shirt. Even imaginary friends get better with age.
He’d had an imaginary friend for weeks. “Where’s Amy today,” his mum asked. “Gone,” he said, “I killed her.” She hadn’t worried, until now.
“Table for four,” John said brightly. His daughter looked crestfallen. His son just sighed and held up three fingers to the waitress.
When no one is around, our contributors can often be heard talking to their imaginary friends. Shhh…maybe we can hear what they’re saying.