are you ?
she looks at me like I am crazy, like I shake a trembling madness in my mind. I do not repeat the question, she deigns not to answer, pretends I never asked
the man at the counter who has been to the bottom of every bottle just smiles, his eyes distantly focused. no, he says magnaminously, well I don't know, who would lie intentionally? my friends, no, never.
-do I get tired of lying? he runs a palsied hand through a ragged mop of hair, not nervous, thinking. do I? sometimes, but there-
a pause, he has a half smile edged with a downward droop.
-there is always a way around the tedium.
-yes, yes, yes, she gasps, i am sorry sorry i didn't mean to lie, but i did, and it is so easy to redefine- her face explodes and i didn't mean to make it so.
no, not tired of lying here, not yet.