Fictional Statement with Some Truths
Excerpt:
Imagine a person in a cabin, in a forest, Teagan once wrote on his log. Imagine he has a television but no phone. He reads the newspaper everyday. He buys food from the supermarket a mile down from his tree-encompassed home. Ocassionally he chats with the cashiers or his neighbors at the store. He has some family with whom eats every Sunday at dinner. He has some friends, and sees them every so often. His life is healthy, well-connected enough to make him feel alive, but removed enough to give him sense of ownership.
Who, though, does he understand? He rarely hears of anyone’s pain except secondhand – though the newspaper, the gossip from the cashier, his mother’s pained explanation of his brother’s absence from Sunday dinner.
This is why I write, he wrote.
