Evan

i am evan’s refrigerator. i will say this right away: evan does not own a refrigerator. i am a fiction, and i am as full with ideas as i am an idea. there is the idea of a carton of eggs inside me. there is the idea of butter inside me. there is cranberry juice. the cranberry juice is real and it is not inside me. there is a real stove near the idea of me where evan has the idea to cook an extravagant meal for his real friends. this comes with the idea that he knows how to cook. i think if evan knew how to cook he would develop a phobia of vegans. he will have the phobia of vegans because of the ideas of the eggs and butter that i mentioned before. i am silver and i have the idea of a console where i can distribute water into cups that is located on the door to the freezer portion of me. i am taller than evan is and i also have more self esteem than he does. this is because it is not difficult to do my job. unless i am sick i am stupendous and because i am a fiction i do not ever have to get sick, although sometimes, evan feels i am a dishonest representation of refrigerators everywhere. he does not think this hard enough to make me sick. there is the idea of garlic inside me. there is the idea of a typewriter inside me. there is the idea of a small, living child inside me. if you should ever find me near to you then know that i have changed from idea to reality, like a cordless phone, or a flying car. once i seemed impossible, you might say of me in the future, but now i’m as real and normal as glass.