Three Fictions
Lost Art
I had a friend who wanted to build a museum dedicated to lost works of art. Pieces incinerated in fires, pilfered by thieves, or simply displaced by time. I asked my friend, who seemed settled on the idea, what the visitors would look at. He appeared taken aback by the question, as if I had asked something untoward. The absence, he said.
Botany
It’s an overabundance of male trees that are making your allergies worse, I tell my wife. I’ve been looking forward to telling her this ever since I heard it on a science podcast during my morning commute. I expect her to be surprised by the knowledge. But she takes the information in stride.
Miniature
I told him that I was once bitten by a neighbor’s miniature dog, a breed I couldn’t recall, and that I wondered how much of my life that came after that was colored by the incident, the sober recognition that I could be hurt by something so unassuming.