"I'm a writer -- for now. Used to have a few shops."
Krishna blew a plume of smoke off into the distance. "That's not what I
mean. What *are* you, Adam? Alan? Andrew? I've met people like you
before. There's something not right about you."
Alan didn't know what to say to that. This was bound to come up someday.
"Where are you from?"
"Up north. Near Kapuskasing," he said. "A little town."
"I don't believe you," Krishna said. "Are you an alien? A fairy? What?"