My Almost Unseen Friend
‘Pardon me,’ a voice whispered out of the shadows, ‘has this guy really won a hundred and forty thousand bucks?’
‘Yes, sir, I have won them,’ Dr Hasselbacher said firmly before Wormold could reply, ‘I have won them as certainly as you exist, my almost unseen friend. You would not exist if I didn’t believe you existed, nor would those dollars. I believe, therefore you are.’
‘What do you mean I wouldn’t exist?’
‘You exist only in my thoughts , my friend. If I left this room…’
‘You’re nuts.’
‘Prove you exist then.’
‘What do you mean, prove? Of course I exist. I’ve got a first-class business in real estate: a wife and a couple of kids in Miami: I flew this morning by Delta: I’m drinking this Scotch, aren’t I?’ The voice contained a hint of tears.
‘Poor fellow,’ Dr Hasslebacher said, ‘you deserve a more imaginative creator than I have been. Why didn’t I do better for you than Miami and real estate. Something of imagination. A name to be remembered.’
‘What’s wrong with my name?’
Graham Greene, Our Man In Havana