Did that mean all the stories he read, however terribly written, were actually somebody’s real life he was spying into? If not, then how could such characters now be here, in a supposedly higher reality along with his very real self, having their lives being viewed by those even higher than he was? Did this just continue up and down the great chain of existence indefinitely or was there a limit? Could someone higher just take his story, write their own, and the winds of fate would whisk him elsewhere? Di-