0.10: Pleasant Valley Sunday.

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One more time, Sylus

Sylus flung himself out of his bed, threw on the church attire that was laid out for him, lowered himself out the window, and slowly approached Jeron in his yard.

“So,” he began casually, leaning on their perfect white picket fence, “If I told you this was all a dream, would you believe me?”

“A-a dream?” Jeron laughed softly before turning to his house, “Then I’d have to say I lucked out.”

Sylus shook his head. “Your wife. Your kid. None of it is real.”

“E-excuse me?”

“My family isn’t real either…”

“I-I don’t… Sylus… Are you… okay?” Jeron slowly lowered his hose to the ground.

“No. Not really. And if the voice in my head is anything to go by, I’m not doing so hot outside of whatever hell this is,” Sylus forced a chuckle.

“Th-this is hardly hell, Sylus… Perfect home, perfect wife, perfect son…”

“See, there’s that word again,” Sylus folded both his arms on the fence, “‘Perfect’. I’ve been hearing it a lot lately. Everything sure is perfect, isn’t it?”

“I-it ssssssssure iiiisss, neighbor!” Jeron’s eyes seemed to waver in and out of focus as he slurred on his words.

“Hm. Right,” Sylus leaned away. “Well. I’m gonna start walking in, oh… That direction,” he pointed down the street. Away from where he knew the church was, “And I’ll keep walking until I find an end to this. There has to be an end, right?”

“A-an end?”

“Thanks for the talk, Jer. I’m sure the real you is far more interesting.”

With that, Sylus spun on his heels and headed out into the street. His car backed out of his driveway, slamming into his body. With a rattling crack, everything went dark.

 

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