“Are you real, or not?” I said.
The spirit shrugged. “Does it matter? Perhaps you just needed someone to talk to.”
“That to me says you’re unreal, just a figment of my imagination as I slowly freeze to death.”
“Nonsense,” replied the spirit. “You’re quickly freezing to death. And what is it anyway, to be real? My cousin was never real to our grandmother after he was disowned, but did that make him any less able to punch her lights out?”
Excerpts From Nonexistent Books 