Policy Of Truth

At age 16, Brenda promised she would only tell the truth. She had always detested lies, even little white ones, and felt sick when forced to feign compliments. Even worse, when she found out she'd been lied to after the fact, she especially hated being told it was out of a desire to save her feelings. Sounded more like an excuse to avoid a hard conversation.

Brenda found honesty liberating in many ways, including the shedding of former friendships. But the best part had to be how much she enjoyed justifying her innate cruelty by her commitment to total veracity.

The Vestal

In ancient Rome, the Vestal Virgins held a sacred place. As long as each Vestal remained chaste, the walls of Rome would never be penetrated. But...

"Did you hear? One of the Vestal Virgins is pregnant."

"What?"

"Pregnant. The belly's showing."

"How in the world?"

"Everyone thought it was Marius or Septimus that did it."

"Did either confess?"

"No, not even after torture. They put other names to her. Claudius, Tullius…"

"I can see one of those guys being involved."

"But the Vestal denied it."

"Huh?"

"She said it must be some kind of immaculate conception."

"What? That excuse again?"

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

East Meets West

HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:

On 10 November 1989, Hans shuffled nervously across the debris littered street, clutching a package close to his chest.

He apprehensively approached the building, straightened his lapels then entered the revolving door.

On reaching the counter, he removed the book from the bag, sliding it across to the stern looking assistant. She opened the book’s cover and said “this is date stamped 13.08.1961. I do hope you have a good excuse.”

Hans anxiously responded “I’d have returned it sooner if it wasn’t for that damned Berlin Wall being built.” Their eyes briefly met before they erupted into gales of laughter.

From Guest Contributor Dougie Shepherd.

Christmas Morning

Ben watches the kids open their presents. Sharon's smile is frozen in place. His too. It's like a hard layer of snow has settled over everyone, precluding self reflection.

He remembers the frenetic joy that would build as his presents got bigger, even as they became fewer. After the last one, a shameful disappointment set in, a feeling he refused to acknowledge even to himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He slinks to the bathroom to read the texts in solitude. Sharon already suspects.

He uses the holidays as an excuse not to say anything. Let's wait until January.