Amira and I

Tonight I will tell you the story of Amira and I. Amira is a unique young woman. She holds an elegance that can only be defined as arbitrary. She has golden brown eyes with flecks of green which add a mystic quality to her aura. Amira holds a unique skill that sets her apart from others. Whenever Amira reads a novel the characters she hold dear come to life. I do not mean that they come to life within her mind, but they truly come into existence within our reality. Sisyphus and calypso walk the earth, along with Jay Gastby and Atticus Finch. People became bewildered when they perceived these timeless characters in the flesh, re-enacting the scenes that have made them indispensable products of history.

Once Amira finishes a novel though, they cease to exist as quickly as they came to life in flesh and blood. Further examination was sought out to explain the unique, and utterly god-like talent that Amira possessed. Over time though, no scientific mind could explain her ability in which the abstract ideals of human characters became concrete reality in our physical world. Amira grew curious though. She always read, and these famous, though sometimes infamous characters, came to life. The time Lolita came to town was a great hinderance to many, and, as is expected, mass protests where initiated to stop the filth that was being portrayed before all eyes to see. 

Amira began to write. She was a wonderful writer with exquisite prose, and a talent for sentence and paragraph structures. The first, and only thing she wrote, was I. You see, when Amira wrote, she also brought that character into existence, but only if she loved him or her. I became a permanent fixture of this reality. I am more than a temporary living and breathing idea. 

One issue occurred though. My concrete existence came at a cost. She made me not only out of love, but to love. I loved, and still love, Amira with all my heart. My love for her is my existence for it grants me subsistence within this vast world of ours. The more she wrote me to love her though, the less substantial she became. I became clearer, she became translucent. She granted me existence, and she erased herself from this world. A terrible and cruel situation that tore our hearts, and confounded our souls. The thing is though, when I came into full existence, she was gone. barely a memory. In time though, i learned that I to possessed the very same talent she did. And so, as expected, I wrote, hoping to be reunited with the woman that loved and created me to love her. The tragedy that then occurred was that I too, began to disappear. We two, Amira and I, are caught in a cycle of existence and none existence, unable to ever truly touch or understand the other except through our own imagination. This is the curse of Amira and I, this is our story.