Fiction? Yes. No! Possibly. Yes.

Bring me back a batik blanket. I've always wanted an authentic one to hang up on my wall.

Of course, I nod. Of course. I would bring him back the whiskers of a bengal tiger or the very lamp from which the real Genie escaped if he asked me to. He comes into the office every morning, shirt and pants immaculately pressed, sits down with his newspapers and steaming cup of black coffee, then he calls me on my local to ask me if I had a good dream the night before. It is a nice sort of friendship: I like being able to talk to a man as openly as this, without drama or expectations. His wife is lovely, quiet and reserved, who tucks her hair behind her ear during the rare times when she speaks. He has a 4-year-old boy whom I have told stories to - he loves Goldilocks and The Three Bears the best. Something about the porridge and the breaking chairs really makes him laugh.