A couple weeks ago I started writing a story about someone I used to know. I'm going to call him Harold, which is the fake name I gave him in the story. I haven't talked to him in about 7 years, and I haven't seen him in 13 years. It's not a comfortable story. I've been processing the information, emotionally and on paper, and writing this story. Last night I told it out loud at a storytelling show.
This morning, I get a Facebook friend request from Harold.
Last night I found out that I'm not in Satanist Dan's phone anymore.
Tonight I find his ad on Craigslist.