"Mom, look, I'm a unicorn!"

"Mom, look, I'm a unicorn!"

The 63-year-old man said to the picture that sat on his desk. He stared at his mom's image, wondering what had happened to the little boy he was decades ago.

The picture spoke back, "Harold, you're worthless as tits on a boar." The picture of his mother was alive and scared the living daylights out of the 63-year old.

Harold immediately felt 8 again. "and uglier than a Harlem whore!" his mother continued, stepping (OMG!) out of the picture frame.This wasn't happening. Harold couldn't contain his

fear. His hands trembled as his mother grew larger and larger as if the world of Harry Potter was coming to life. Had she really just stepped out of a picture frame, screaming

he heard the crunching of gravel in the driveway. He heard squeals of tires and a roar of the engine, and then his mom was off in his brand new Cadillac. He threw on his slippers

And folded more stories to help deal with insomnia. That and schnapps always did the trick. Where was his mom going? It was just seven minutes to midnight. Then his mum returned.

"Are you folding again? It's 11:53 PM." "I know, mom," I said, taking another sip of liquor. "I can't sleep... Not until... the witching hour!" "What happens then?" She asked.

"Nothing at all, in fact. Its all about the unreal" "So, how is that? What does it mean? the unreal?" "It means that your existence is that is real"