Sugar Mountain High IV

Did I say ‘radio’? I meant ‘wireless’. That’s how we used to refer to it. Although, come to think of it, perhaps I am confusing the times. Did I not warn you of this? The period I am speaking of is before the time of radio, at least for us. We were in a deprived backwater of the world. My daddy drove a donkey.

So how could there have been a radio? But is this not a fiction that I am writing after all? Even if it, or something like it, really did happen, the fact that I am writing it makes it a fiction. Writing necessarily brings with it an element of the fantastical, if you will. One cannot write the truth. So does it matter if I insert a fictional radio? But then you might protest that I am sketching an anomaly. And what would that radio have been playing? I forget.  It is sometimes a virtue of old age to forget.

In that case, does the insertion of an explicitly fictional element somehow connive with the inhererent fiction of writing to produce and lay bare an element of truth, if nothing other than all is fiction? Ah! that would be something, wouldn’t it? And what of dreams? Surely it is the case that in the real world a dream is a fiction. So if my writing a dream is portrayed, that is a double fiction. A fiction reflected. Reflected into reality.

You can probably tell from my musings that I am wont to wander. I was a girl with her head in the clouds. Even as we scratched in the dirt.


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