We’re safe now
“We’re safe now.”
The child closes their eyes. Blanket tucked under chin, the phrase stitched into the dark like a lullaby. Breathing slows. Safety is simple, a voice they trust.
The spouse stares at the ceiling. Awake. Counting cracks in the plaster. Outside, a siren bends in and out of hearing. Boots scrape pavement. They know the lie when they hear it. But it's better to bleed inside than shatter the room.
Across the street, the neighbor tilts an ear toward the open window. The words drift over. A hand moves to the deadbolt, tests the chain, clicks the lock twice just to be sure. Safety is the sound of metal against metal.
The policeman closes his notebook, caps his pen. Situation secure. That’s the line that goes in. Report filed, case cleared, system fed. The lie traveling through paperwork, wearing the clothes of truth.
From the podium, the community leader raises the phrase higher. “We’re safe now.” Murmur, then applause. Painted on a wall by morning. Paint won’t stop the dying but it looks nice drying in the sun.
In the shelter, a stranger hears the broadcast on a cracked radio, the voice warbling through static. A vending machine hums in the corner, faint smell of stale corn chips. They shake their head, hand resting on the strap of a duffel. The bag never leaves their side. For them, safety is never.
And the one who spoke it knows they lied. The words are already hunting them. Every shadow leans closer. Every creak is arrival.
The Seven Ends to My Lie (In No Particular Order)
“No, I love it. Thanks so much, it’s just what I wanted.”
Ending #1: Next stop – the Goodwill three towns over.
Ending #2: I’ll keep this out for at least a month, then shove it in the attic so technically, when asked, I can say, “Of course I still have your present.”
Ending #3: I’ll act like it’s as valuable and delicate as a Ming vase, which is why I’ll find a safe place to keep it so it can’t be broken, i.e. the back of my lower left kitchen cabinet.
Ending #4: I need to strategically position this close enough to the edge of the front entry table so it will inevitably get knocked off and shattered into a thousand pieces the next time my youngest helps bring in the groceries.
Ending #5: It’ll be stored in the hall closet for easy retrieval so it can be prominently displayed at a moment’s notice anytime you text to say you’re coming over for a visit.
Ending #6: “Oh, my sister borrowed it for her (insert whatever holiday recently passed) party and she hasn’t returned it yet.”
Ending #7: If “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” then one of us needs to make an appointment with an ophthalmologist.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing with seven TA-
LES is his name,and THE ENDING IS not PRETTY.
He lies all day,in the coffee shops,on the street,wherever his tongue takes him.
You probably saw him.
You definitely heard him!
Barely conscious of his words.
Off,with his words!
Cut that tail!
It stings everyone he comes in contact with.
Especially the lies he tells himself,when his back is on the floor.
You see,he's always looking for pity.
Pitiful lies!
I saw him the other day, and now his back is up against the wall.
He's trying to get back on his feet,he's almost there.
A few more worries to go.
Which will be the outcome of a few more sorrys to go.
He's the boy who cried wolf.
When the serpents were manifesting through his soul.
The wolf howled through the night and day.
From the sting of the aftertaste of the snakes' bitter words.
He told me seven times that he doesn't lie anymore.
Now it's too late,his back isn't against the wall anymore, and he never made it to his feet.
Now he's lying in the city morgue.
They say his lies caught up to him.
In a dark alley that is.
The darkness of his lies are now revealed in a secluded plot under the light of the moon.
No one's listening,no one cares. What a shame!
He had the potential to tell the truth.
I guess it's true what they say the truth will set you free.
Now, his mother is at his graveside,howling and wailing under a full moon.
The lies she told,Les inherited those.
Now, the fabricated woolen guilt is shedding from her.
Now she sees the light of the day with new eyes.
The night has disappeared from the tears that have washed the scales from her eyes.
THE MOTHER WOLF IS NO LONGER MASQUERADING IN WOOL.
Lie Plus Seven
A lie has 7 ending
Or so the story is told
So let's tell a little lie and see how far it goes.
I lied and said my sister was sick
But really she went on a date.
When her husband brought her
Soup home, lie one was a mistake
Being sick as the lie was told
Bought a lot of family to visit.
The look on their faces because of my lie, you wouldn't want to miss it
My sister had to move with me
Because her husband kicked her out
The guy on the date was her husband's best friend so he punched him in the mouth.
The fifth ending was losing her job, because her husband was her boss.
The sixth ending cost me because
She was truly depressed.
The seventh ending was getting a plan to clean up all of this mess.