One of the best things about writing Confession stories is that the author is always anonymous. That means I can write about real people. People I know who are interesting. It occasionally creates a problem, like the time a complimentary copy of a magazine with my story in it arrived in the mail when we happened to have company. You guessed it… company was the person in the story.
I tried and failed to hide the magazine so everyone who was visiting at the time (several people) read my story. I wanted to hide in a corner until everyone left. But that proved to be unnecessary because no one recognized the character in my story as being one of my visitors. Incredible! How could they not recognize her or at least the situation she was in? But they didn’t.
So maybe we all each see people differently?
Ever heard a conversation about someone you knew and, until the name was mentioned, you didn’t know who it was because you never thought of that person in that way? Same thing, I think. What do you think?