Truth | A flash fiction story
62 of đź’Ż
My heart is, health-wise, fine — it’s been fine for almost two hundred years — but, apparently, I’m still prone to the effects of heartbreak. I thought I had learned to deal with it, I sure have had enough time to develop a system.
It’s the same every time: they cry and I move on. But this time I’m the one sitting on an uncomfortable make-believe chair, staring at empty teal walls, talking to a virtual shrink.
As it seems, being the richest person in the world can afford you practical immortality, but it won’t save you from the trickery of the heart. My money allows me to create realities, expose lies and conceal truths. But there is one truth I simply can’t conceal from myself, it doesn’t matter how hard I try or how much money I throw at it: I miss her.
< Mechanism | Truth | Free >
