Society tells us lying is bad. A white lie, a black lie – shades of untruth. Spare the feelings, cast doubt on truth. In the end, even breathing is a false alarm.
They slipped out the door together.
Tsisas wrapped an arm around Bruesia's shoulders. He looked back, right before the ememergecny door closed and the sirens started wailing.
"He'll be fine," Bruesia said.
Tsisas squeezed her shoulder. "Just keep trying to reassure yourself."
"He'll be fine."
They turned the corner on the street and kept walking. Tsisas' hand felt warm even through Bruesia's shirt.
They passed a gas station, a restaurant.
"This is my stop."
Tsisas drew Bruesia close.
They stared beyond one another. Tsisas' eyes unfocused. Bruesia shivered and looked away.
"Are you sure?" Tsisas' hand gripped Bruesia's wrist. Tsisas spoke softly.
Bruesia looked over her shoulder. People crowded the empty streets. "Sure," she said.
Tsisas laughed. "Game," he said. His hold on Bruesia's wrist tightened.
Bruesia smiled. Her smile flickered into anger. Her wrist jerked. "Let me go!"
Tsisas' hands caught at Bruesia's other wrist.
"Stop it! Stop – help!"
The streets held too many blind people. Bruesia screamed and struggled. Tsisas struck her. She cried out.
"You bastard!"
People crowded empty streets. No one said anything. No one did anything.
Mothers covered children's ears. Husbands blocked wives' views. People hurried by, not looking.
Tsisas laughed.
"Roll a one!" he said in Bruesia's face. He held up two dice to a crowd that did not halt. "Roll a one and I'll let her go!"
"Someone – please!"
Tsisas backhanded Bruesia with the hand holding the dice. "Someone save the bitch!"
This statement is true. The previous statement is a lie.
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