What makes reality a reality? Can someone's reality be my reality too? Is there a definite standard to call something a reality or is it because that is what all people been used to? That when a new idea comes astray from their paradigms, it becomes estrange, queer, undefined...a mere fantasy.
"Boo!" Raff snakes his arm to my back as I walk to my first class.
Me being the jumpy one, shriek. "Hey! don't ever do that again!" I slap away his arm and face the two cousins.
"What happened last night? You suddenly disappeared, Em," asks Raff.
"Me? Are you two serious? You two go banshee over me, disappearing in thin air! Just poop! Nada." I say exaggerating my every word with couple of swatting invisible flies in the air.
Raff's gaze falls over her cousin and he start chuckling. "Waah! Raff
