text: The soft clicking of computer keys blends in with the sound of rain pattering against the window. My glasses are perched precariously on the end of my nose, and a cup of lukewarm chocolate rests atop some papers on my desk. I am content. A knock at the door distracts me from my writing. I smile. “Come in.” Within seconds Tobias is by my side, hands clutching the edge of my desk as he lifts himself up to peer at the book I’m writing. “Ah-ah-ah, no spoilers,” I tease, covering Tobias’s eyes with one hand. “But Mama, it’s after school!” he whines. “You said I could see it after school!” “Did I?” Looking up at the ceiling, I pretend to be deep in thought. I shake my head and smirk. “Nope, can’t remember saying that.” In a blur of defiance, Tobias jumps up and licks my hand, still blocking his view. I pull back with an exaggerated gasp of horror. “No! You’ve poisoned me! How could you do that?” Tobias bursts into a fit of giggles. “I didn’t poison you!” I strike a dramatic pose in my chair, one hand pressed to my stomach while the other rests on my forehead. “Everything...going...dark...” And with that, I close my eyes and let my tongue loll out of my mouth. Tobias cheers to himself. It’s good to know he cares so much about his mama’s well-being. After a prolonged period of silence, I crack one eye open, only to find Tobias absorbed in the story I’ve begun to write on my computer. “What do you think?” I ask him. He replies without moving his eyes from the screen. “I think there’s supposed to be a comma right here.” Tobias points to a sentence. He’s right. I quickly correct my mistake, puffing up with pride for my smart little boy. “Thanks, buddy.” I pause. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I press a kiss to the top of his head. Tobias turns and gestures for me to lean down, giving me a kiss on the cheek in return before becoming refocused on the story. For some odd reason, I feel like crying. And then I realize. Instantly, the world around me freezes. I stare at my computer screen, noticing my story has become a blank sheet of virtual paper. I decide to take a risk. “This isn’t real, is it?” I blink, and words have appeared on the screen. **It’s real in a way.** Anger burns in my chest as my suspicions are confirmed. “No, it’s not real. This is just a fantasy.” Another blink, more words. **I’m sorry. This is the best I can do for you -- for us -- right now.** “I know,” I whisper. The eerie silence around me is suffocating, and my eyes fill with tears. **Please don’t cry. You mean everything to me.** I laugh bitterly. “As much as a character can mean, anyway.” **You’re not just a character.** “Then what am I?” My author hesitates. This time, I catch the cursor moving, and I read her confession just before she closes the document. **You’re my epilogue.