She kissed him. Her lips felt like paper. Her hair smelled like ink.
For six months, life was good. Leo read The Dark Knight Returns on his phone during his commute. He projected Sandman covers onto the living room wall as art. He told everyone about ComicsFlix.
Inside was a single comic. Not one of his. It was a new title, one he’d never seen. The cover was a glossy photo of his own apartment. Through the window, he could see himself, sitting on the couch, reading a tablet. The title was embossed in shiny red letters:
Mia was thrilled. She bought a houseplant and put it where the long boxes used to be.