Is This Little Piece of Flash Memoir Too Weird? Narrative Fallacy by Miriam Sagan

Narrative Fallacy

The inventor of swarm theory is found dehydrated, disoriented, and naked, wandering by the side of a rural highway in central New Mexico.
I read you this opening sentence of a story I have yet to write. I ask you–what should happen next?
You say: someone should come along in a truck, maybe your first husband with the baby in the car seat. She really was a pretty baby.
Naw, I say. I’m sick of my first–now long dead–husband. Maybe it should be an old beat up white guy in a truck. But one of those weird rancher types who is the caretaker of the Lightning Field or something, who knows all about land art and earthworks.
OK, you say.
You don’t really care, it isn’t your story, but you pay attention because you are a good friend.
We are in a laundromat in Maine. Actually we are at a conference at a camp that has its own washing machines, but you prefer town. Between us we don’t have enough for a white load, so we just mix it all together.
“Once,” you say, “the moon fell in love with woman. She turned herself into a lamp. He was so fat and round he could’t fit through the doorway of the yurt.”
“Good,” I say. “Tell me more.”

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About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well ( The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

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