I say "possibly" because while I remember her face and that I liked her, I can't remember what friend-of-a-friend connection she is. She reminds me that we hung out at a bar once. My memory is different: instead of a bar, for some reason I remember her coming to a party my girlfriend and I threw. I am sure she was a friend of my friend Nick, unless she was a friend of Tove's, or maybe Robert's. As I consider each possibility, she appears as a different person. It's one of those moments of swiss cheese memory where big bubbles of absent information get filled in with scraps from the lives of totally unrelated people.
Sana is an Iowa Writers' Workshop grad, class of 2005, and she already has a story in the New Yorker--quick work! It's a simple, sweet story that I really like (I've been reading Dave Eggers's short stories, and her lack of gimmicks seems like sudden genius). She's from Georgia, and the story weaves in some Georgian history and culture.
She also asks how I found myself here in Georgia. For brevity, I'll put that in the next post.