Casually, you glance over the pages in front of you. Your eyes find the beginning of the next article, and you begin to read. Wait a second, you think. Is it referring to me? You realize that the sentences in the magazine are about you, and you become confused. You’ve never read an article like this.

You see, I’m the Narrator. I’m sure you’ve seen my work at some point or another. I’ve been the teller of thousands of events, and now, you’re the subject of the story. Where is he? you wonder. Why do you suddenly care now? You’ve read many of my stories about countless others without any hesitation. Are you nervous because now I’m describing you? Don’t be. I’ve never interfered with anyone before, and I won’t start now. I prefer to let my characters act independently, so I can describe what they’re doing. Things are far more interesting that way, and I like interesting.

You become more agitated. Your eyes hurriedly move through the next few sentences, but they only tell you what you’re already doing. Relax. If it makes you feel any better, I’m going to call this story fiction (even though, between the two of us, we both know it’s not). I won’t say much about you because, quite frankly, you’re not too interesting at the moment, but I will say this: When you read the next article, however interesting it may be, you will be glad that you’re not the subject. Oddly enough, you, like most people, don’t like your own story very much. I can’t see why. After all, you have control over everything the character does. Maybe that’s why you don’t like reading it; you don’t want to face your actions when they’re written out in permanent words. You see the end of the story, your story, approaching, and you’re grateful. You should know by now that I move on quickly. After all, I have a lot of ground to cover, and many stories to tell. Read some of them. Many are interesting, but, better still, they’re not yours.