Goodbyes

Verisimilitude is the appearance of being true or real. And Kyle often wished that things were real,
or at least appeared to be. When he was nine, he had wished so hard for Pokemon to be real. When
he was eleven, he came to terms with the fact that they never would be unless genetic engineering
hit movie levels of power, giving adorable little mice the ability to kill a person. Next he dreamed
that he lived in the ‘80s, during the heyday of rock music. Sadly, this too was a mere fantasy, but if
he closed his eyes while listening to a live version of a song, he was almost there, sandwiched
between rank people in their forties and a group of kids who didn’t care much for school or their
parents, his organs vibrating with the bass. At the age of fourteen, he found comfort in the fact that
the eighties would be around in another sixty years.
Yes, Kyle wished that many things were real. But today, this was one thing he wished wasn’t real.
He watched as Henry’s house slowly slid to a stop beside his “Sleeeeeek black Cadillac.” Henry
was sitting on his suitcase, a blue suitcase with stickers all over it and a stuffed monkey sitting on
top.