by Sonya Lea
Spring 2007 | The Southern Review
"I'm making this up. I live in this life, and at the same time I assign meaning to it. I could say that’s the way it has always been, and then I would have to be sure who I am now, who I was then, and then I’d have to be sure of what happened, in what order things occurred, and then I’d have to be sure my perception was accurate, and then, because I’m unsure (I think) or want to be somewhat sure (perhaps), I’d have to check it with someone else, to verify (maybe)."
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