Flinch

“Lies?” he said, looking down at his hands, as though he held a script. “They’re like… little boats on a big river. So many things can go wrong. Doesn’t matter how well-constructed it is, it can still sink,” he said, shrugging.

“See, if you flinch when you lie, but keep lying, you lose your chance to claim ignorance. You have to pretend you believe it. You have to be earnest. You have to put everything behind the lie, and commit to it, or just tell the damn truth.  If you get found out, you’re gonna be branded a liar either way. If you’re going to lie, you have to give up the notion that you can ever claim you didn’t know what you were doing. You’re gonna wear that label, and you’re gonna have to live with it. The only way it’ll ever be believable, the only way to keep from being suspected is to play the part, and play it well — that way, you’re less likely to get caught,” he said, falling silent for awhile, after such a long speech.

When he talks again, he is frowning, as though recalling something unpleasant, “The only addendum to this is that you have to make sure you keep calm. A safe boat still depends on a deep river. Emotions are like… rocks. All it takes is one big damned rock in the middle of the river to tear a flimsy boat to splinters.”

Advertisements

Talk back to me. Trust me; I'm listening.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s