Iâ€™ve always liked to lie. Maybe thatâ€™s why writing fiction appeals to me so much.
The first time I remember lying, I was seven years old. My best school friend, a fellow Catholic schoolgirl, was over and we were playing in my room. I guess I could blame what happened on her, but it was my idea. We played post office. I did the writing. She sealed the envelopes. I addressed them. Even back then I didnâ€™t like to relinquish my pen.
Afterward we delivered the letters to all the neighbors: Miss Lil, who had hanging plants above a poster of Matisseâ€™s goldfish; Miss Shirley, the young divorcee with two kids and a case of herpes; our top-floor drug addicts; ever kind Miss Malcolm who once bandaged my bleeding toe when my mom wasnâ€™t around. And there were more.
My friend and I finished our deliveries and came back to my house for a snack. Hours passed and she went home. When the knocks on the door began, I wasnâ€™t worried. First Miss Lil came to the back door, frantic, nearly in tears. I grinned on the way to my room. I didnâ€™t get to see the rest of the neighbors come, but each one did. I missed their worried looks and concerned hugs. I never got to witness the fruits of my labor, except in my imagination.
Iâ€™m sure there was an appropriate punishment. What I did was evil. Good girls never lie and tell the neighbors that their mom died. Good girls donâ€™t trick nice people into thinking theyâ€™re starving and miserable. But I did, and I was never sorry, not even for one single second.
Still, itâ€™s funny how the universe always brings out the best in me. By chance, nice old Miss Malcolm got my friendship poem and came downstairs the next day to thank me.
16 thoughts on “Canard is French for”
Girls aren’t always good. That’s a given. Girls aren’t always as clever as you were either. That’s refreshing.
Haha! Thanks, Angie.
I’m beginning to understand your dark side a bit more. (we all have one) 🙂
Life is meant to be lived and sometimes you just have to push things a bit. 🙂
That’s so true.
Hahahaha…okay, this sounds a bit like my childhood. I was quite the little liar…
Ooh, I want to hear more…
You could say that.
Um, I did.
I knew you were gonna say that. 😉
ha,ha,ha. This is hilarious. Well written.
I’ve never been able to lie with any conviction, but I was able to once in a while convince myself that I wasn’t doing anything wrong when I was in fact doing something bad. Usually with either my brother or my friend convinced to go along with my bratty behaviour.
I really felt like I was there with you on this story. Nice! 🙂
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