I’d written a story and maybe some year later, I received an email from a long-lost friend. She’d said how splendid it was to find me, but wouldn’t I mind removing her name from a story I’d written that she’d seen upon Googling herself? It was the whole of barely two lines I thought, without a disparaging remark, but I said oh how ripping it was to find her as well and that I would not, and she wrote promptly back to express no remorse in our connection disintegrating in the way that it did in the first place anyway. Oh how very typical I thought as I read her sentiment of how very typical this was all of me! And I set to work writing another story about that, and now I wait …
Except it isn’t all the way true.