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There was once a girl,

“Now that’s a promising start.”

Who lived on a college campus in the great stretch of nothing known as the Midwest.

“Now that’s rather mean.”

“Is it? It’s nothing short of the truth.”

“But what does it say about all those people who live in that “great stretch of nothing.” We live in that great stretch of nothing.”

“It’s not commenting on the girl. It’s commenting on the land.”

“You know, you are perpetuating the great myth that the Midwest is nothing but a bunch of dirt and farmland.”

“Is it anything else?”

“Obviously.”

“Look, it’s a story. I’m taking artistic license.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what J.M Barrie said too.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

She sighed, “Nothing I suppose.”

She had a lot of dreams though ever since her parents died under mysterious circumstances, they were very hard to fulfill.

“Mysterious circumstances?”

“What?”

“What did her parents die of?”

“That’s not important to the narrative.”

“Not important to the narrative?!” she said aghast. “How her parents died might distinguish the genre of this piece. Did they die in a car accident during a blue moon or were they abducted by aliens one summer night? Mysterious implies either of these.”

“The story isn’t about her parents…”

“But it is about her, right? What happened to her parents are important. Who shaped her beliefs if not her parents? Who inspired her dreams if they were not there?”

“You’re reading too much into this.”

“Well, someone has to.”

“Could you just read the story?”