[ WP ] A man suddenly gains the ability to talk to his shadow . As they converse , it becomes apparent the shadow is real and the man is what the shadow casts .

I do n't know why, as I stood in front of the window next to my bed, staring back at the wall that held my shadow, I chose to speak, but I did. `` Hello.'' 
 
 The shadow of my head moved slightly as I spoke, but then it went as still as I. At its sides and above and under it, the shadow of tree branches quivered and shook as the wind outside my window whistled and howled its ballad to the latched windows and locked doors. 
 
 I sat down slowly at the foot of my bed and watched my shadow carefully. It sat still. I lifted a hand and touched my head, then ran my fingers through my hair. `` Hello.'' 
 
 The shadow stopped, then put its arm down and straightened. `` Hello.'' 
 
 It sounded like my voice -- not my voice from a recording or from a video, but from *inside*, from what *I* sounded like. `` Are you real?'' The words slipped from my mouth and I realized how silly they sounded. I worried for a brief moment that somehow, somewhere, somebody was listening and how foolish I would look. 
 
 `` Yes.'' The shadow turned its head, and even though it had no eyes, I could feel the stare. 
 
 `` What are you?'' 
 
 `` Do n't you know?'' 
 
 `` You're my shadow.'' 
 
 There was a long silence, then, `` you are hallucinating.'' 
 
 I blinked. `` No, I'm not.'' 
 
 `` Yes, you are. You are sick, you have a fever; you need to sleep. Go to sleep.'' 
 
 I stood, and my shadow did not. `` No.'' It was lying to me. I was n't hallucinating. I was n't sick. If I was, would I realize it? The thought formed in my mind but I pushed it aside. `` What are you?'' 
 
 `` I am your shadow.'' 
 
 I furrowed my brow and shook my head. `` No, you are n't.'' 
 
 `` Why not?'' 
 
 `` You're speaking.'' 
 
 `` So are you.'' 
 
 `` I am not a shadow.'' 
 
 The shadow stood and turned to face me. It stood with squared shoulders and its arms resting gently at its side. `` What do you look like?'' 
 
 `` What do I look like?'' The shadow remained silent, and we stared at each other for several seconds. `` I am 5'9''. I have black hair, brown eyes, I have pink flesh. I have fingers and toes. You do not.'' 
 
 `` What do I look like?'' 
 
 `` You are my shadow.'' 
 
 `` So then I look like you?'' 
 
 I hesitated. `` You have my shape.'' 
 
 `` But not your features? What do I look like, if not you?'' 
 
 `` You are black. You are my outline, but you lack my features.'' 
 
 `` You have my features, but you lack my depth. You lack my color.'' 
 
 `` No, you --'' 
 
 `` I look like you, but I am not you. You are me, I am not you.'' 
 
 `` You have my voice!'' 
 
 `` You have my mind.'' 
 
 `` You have my body!'' 
 
 `` You have my eyes.'' 
 
 `` I am real, I am --'' 
 
 `` You are *me*.'' 
 
 I realized, then, that I was scratching my head. 
 
 `` You have my fingers.'' 
 
 I began to run my fingers through my hair, the shadow of my hair rising and falling on the white wall. 
 
 `` You have my hair.'' 
 
 I touched my face. `` You have my mind.'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 `` You have my depth.'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 `` I am you.'' 
 
 `` I am not you.'' 
 
 `` Yes.''
