---
title: Anecdote (story)
#description: none
author: Issa Rice
creation_date: 2014-12-31
last_major_revision_date: 2014-12-31
language: English
# accepts "notes", "draft", "in progress", or "mostly finished"
status: notes
# accepts "certain", "highly likely", "likely", "possible", "unlikely", "highly unlikely", "remote", "impossible", "log", "emotional", or "fiction"
belief: fiction
# accepts "CC0", "CC-BY", or "CC-BY-SA"
license: CC-BY
tags: fiction, literary
---

# Story

Occasionally people will make a request for me to share something interesting about myself.
Invariably, in these cases, I tell them of a man who once came to my house.

I was standing outside my house when he came, a solid man who pretended to be an uncle.
At first I attempted to reason with him: I do not have an uncle.
He called himself "John Doe", and insisted.
I grew tired of his pestilent demeanor, and, when he tried to enter my house, I moved behind him and grabbed his hands, trying to hold him down.
On the cement ground I struggled and repeatedly shouted "Police!" until a woman who drove by called the police for me.

When the police were about to come, he disappeared.
I lay there holding my hands, tightly bound, as if in a prayer.
I was alone on the sidewalk, though people walked by on the opposite side of the street.

It was no use---I acquiesced as the they carried me away.