Fiction

An entry from a very old book, that I had almost completely forgotten. It reads as fiction, or so it does to me.

"... I'm on an airplane. On the last flight I dreamed about you. We were on an airplane and you took a nap with your head in my lap while I stroked your head. It was nice...I'm kinda sleepy and I wish you could be here with me right now. You are a good cuddler. Much Better than my teddy bear. I hope you get a job here. It would be perfect. I have to stop writing before my hopes get even higher... maybe we deserve these sorts of hardships because we have no problems with each other, well, at least none that I know of. I don't know. I am just happy because you will be here... We sat on the moonshadowed grass...I love you, I love you, I love you..."

The book is called "Eunice"
And it reads as fiction..
or so it does
to me.