The Lie

Daddy, where is Willie?
He went to visit relatives, honey.
He always licks my face and wakes me up Does he know the way?
I'm sure he does, sweetie.
When is he cominh home?
I'm not sure. Why don't you get your coat and we'll head to Chuckie Cheease?
What if Willie comes home and we're not there?
He'll just wait for us.
Daddy, I heard you digging in the yard this morning.
I'm sorry I woke you.
What are you burying in that hole?
Why don't we get some ice cream?
Is it a secret?
I don't like secrets, sweetie.
So why don't you tell me?
You might cry.
No I won't.
Honey, Daddy didn't quite tell you the truth before.
About what?
About Willie.

A Necessary Lie

Morgan lied to himself every day. He told himself he was the bad boy girls loved to date. He considered himself a hard living adventurer. His sexy beard stubble was actually long peach fuzz. His leather outfits hung loosely in the wrong places. He drove a Volvo.
Morgan worked as an HR person in a Venetian blinds outlet. His real calling was a mercenary, though he'd never fired a weapon.
Around women, he made sure to spit a lot, guzzle beer, rub his crotch and employ a wide, manly stance. Ladies thought it might be more effective if he didn't have a Tweetie Bird plastic icon on his key chain. Morgan knew deep down he was a man of action waiting to burst out.
He drove home, watched Big Bang Theory reruns, careful not to strain his back while pulling off his ten pound motorcycle boots.