Gonna Be Alright
Here’s why I’m not going to yank Monstrous off the shelves yet again, and not think twice about it, just to change a ‘seventeen’ to a ‘nine’. My introductory sentence lets me off the hook:
(The following story is true to the best of its author’s memory and deductive skills with respect to motivations and chronology, with the exception that names and details surrounding names have been changed where thought necessary to preserve anonymity.)
Though I didn’t find it necessary to fudge the difference in ages between ‘Mrs. Walgren’ and her husband in order to keep her identity in the dark, my accidental fudging can only help anonymity, just in case I had really been striving for too much accuracy for my own good.
I have a theory what happened. That when I heard Mrs. Walgren’s husband was nine years younger than her, and within the context of their having gotten married during a much more conservative era, my nineteen year old self was blown away to a particular degree. By the time I got around to recounting the story, I would have been searching for a number that could similarly have blown me away, and not only would a nine-year gap not look so wide to my then twenty-three year old version, but by that time I myself had raised the bar of credulity, having married a woman twenty-seven years older than myself.
Submit an autobiographical line in the comments section below and I’ll return with the passage in Monstrous that best relates to it.
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