A Year of Stories (Collection Three)

Hunting For Love

There are good lies and then there are bad lies.

A good lie is when you tell your Mom that the sweater with the cats and Unicorns on it, the one that she bought you last Christmas instead of just writing a check like a sane person would, is your favorite.

The worst part about a good lie, is that it tends to bring on more sweaters.

A bad lie is when you've spent the last three months making up stories about adventures you've never been on, and now find yourself in the middle of a forest, standing in front of a woman who you're pretty sure could kill you three times between eye blinks.

The worst part about a bad lie, is that sometimes you lose limbs.

"So you're ... Byron?"

"That's my name."

"I thought you would be... taller..."

"Well, I'm..."

"...and more muscular, maybe a little more ruggedly good looking?"

"I..."

"I mean, I don't know, aren't you a little doughy for this sort of thing? That's not supposed to be an insult, I'm just concerned for your safety."

"...you did read my application, didn't you?"

"I read it and it was OK, I guess. It's just that I expected something..."

"I think I get it."

"But..."

"I get it!"

"Calm down, I just want to make sure that you really want to go through with this, that there is nothing you want to tell me Byron... You can go home, I won't think any less of you."

"I'm not sure you could think any less of me Cassandra..."

"Wait a minute, you're upset, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not..."

"Yes you are! Come on now, smile, you'll have plenty of time to cry later. Speaking of which, you did sign the waiver, didn't you?"

"The one online?"

"That's the one. In that case, now that the pleasantries out of the way, it's time to get started."

2.