Propped up on one elbow, her neck extended at an unusual angle, she met my gaze.
"We all lie a lot," she stated. "We experiment with the science of deception; forge fact from fiction; extract truth from fable. Most of us do so as an instinctive, face-saving social tactic – a protective reflex to advance our cause in the world." She blinked. Her pupils dilated as they refocussed. I lay supine next to her on the floor. "But you do it," she accused, "simply to hurt others. You fabricate to wound and destroy."
"I do not," I lied. And it was only mildly ironic that my features were unable to express pensive torment.
