You know I used to write fiction? A lot of it? But I haven’t really been able to write any new stuff since all this happened. I wonder if others have this experience, where the world of fantasy suddenly makes no sense when everything you thought was fictional actually turned out to be true?
I wonder at this sometimes.
That being said, here’s the first piece of fiction I’ve written since everything exploded into brilliant meaning. Part one of a four-part series on A Sense of Place in answer to the question, “What do we Pagans hope to build?”
The students looked at each other, discomfort and nervousness evident on their faces. “Uh,” said the woman after a long pause. “Our professor told us we should ask you about this place, about how banks become groves, and…” she shifted, quite uncomfortably. “How we used to clean our…um, anuses with paper?”
This never failed to make him laugh.