What Are Real What Are Real

By Brendan Whitaker

Randall Jacksmith who is on his way to the bank encounters a series of incomprehensible events that seem to fade away in obscurity as he makes his way on his daily routine. As time goes by he begins to question if it all is a collective illusion… or if it’s all separate, but real. This tale of a mundane journey turned phenomena of mind splitting proportions is merely a glimpse of what Brendan Whitaker has in store for the near and far future of fiction. A book of spoilers and what’s to come.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Jan 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665735797

Brendan Whitaker

Brendan Whitaker is that one guy you see at a grocery store who seems to be following you, but you can’t tell from his cold, focused stare. In reality, he’s somewhere far removed from anything. Anything of substance or appearance. A person who’s kept to himself for years searching for what goes on beyond the fixed consciousness and now, he’s ready to show you what he’s discovered.

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WHAT ARE REAL

WHAT ARE REAL

BRENDAN WHITAKER

Copyright © 2023 Brendan Whitaker.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the author except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3578-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3579-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022923807

Archway Publishing rev. date: 01/04/2023

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1     It All Makes Sense

Chapter 2     Psychosmic

Chapter 3     Top Class Action

Chapter 4     Strange Perception

Chapter 5     A Premonition Chronicle

Chapter 6     Pitiful Night

Chapter 7     Ghost AF

Chapter 8     Nothing is Pain

Chapter 9     An Interlusion

Chapter 10   Fight of my Dreams

Chapter 11   What about What?

Chapter 12   Please Stand By

Chapter 13   No, I Am

Chapter 14   A Dying Tune

Chapter 15   How Can’t I Be?

Chapter 16   What are Amongst

About the Author

Prologue

Reality is fiction. Every human on the planet sees the world in a way that is absurd to the other, there is no such thing as real and there never will be as long as the outskirts, the unknown, the all-knowing, and always doing, exist. So I ask myself whenever I look in the mirror: is Randall Jacksmith real?

Chapter 1

It All Makes Sense

I am on my way to the bank; I have business to take care of.

First, I eat a bowl of cereal, or maybe it’s a bowl of ants. And the ants are eating me. Ant-eaters eat ants, and I’m not an anteater. It is four in the afternoon, so I shouldn’t be eating cereal. So if it’s 4 p.m., and I’m not an anteater, then where did the bowl go? I look down at my empty hands, then around the room. Hm…nothing. I look back down at my hands and they’re covered in ants. I wonder, Maybe I’m an anthill. What if I’m the ant? I look down again and see my arms covered in tiny people crawling around. I try to hastily wash them off, but milk comes out of the faucet. I try to turn it off, but it keeps running. I turn around and the floor’s covered in anthills, except the anthills are bowls. The sink overflows with milk and the bowls star filling with milk until they overflow. I just stand there and watch it happen. The room starts filling with milk and the ants drown in it. The ants’ screams sound like that of tiny people, and I try to shut it out, covering my face with my hands. God, I wish this was all over.

Suddenly, the screaming stops. I uncover my face and see the milk, the ants, and the bowl hills all gone. I see the cereal I had left on the counter. I let out a deep sigh; it was finally over. At this point I want anything but a bowl of cereal. I went to get the bowl and I trip. I tripped over nothing. It was bizarre, as if the room moved and made me fall on my own. All of a sudden, the room begins to roll and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling along with it. The bowl flew and hit me in the head, shattering on impact. I was still conscious—conscious enough to see the fridge fall and slide towards me. I had to use all the momentum I could muster to roll against the room and miss the sliding fridge just in time. I got up and sprinted for the door. I didn’t care how much pain my ankles and calves were fighting off the room’s revolution. It was a combination of fear, adrenaline, and me trying to convince myself this was all a dream. I held onto the doorknob and looked back. In the kitchen, knives flew around like bats, the fridge launched and dunked itself back to the floor, bowl shards made screeching sounds as they scraped against everything; it was a madhouse.

I had had enough of this. I opened the door and a wall of milk knocked me back. It took only a few seconds for the room to fill with milk and I became nearly submerged. I was able to blindly climb up on the fridge, barely able to understand what happened—and I mean barely. I wiped the dairy from my eyes from and I saw…I saw…oh God. A spoon picked