Lying: A Short Story

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You are probably wondering how I got into this spasmodic predicament. Well, it all started on the night of my argument with that obtuse fellow, Orlick. I was in the kitchen on this discomfited night while “Joe had been at the Three Jolly Bargemen…” (120). Here I was, minding my business by saying goodnight with a farm-laborer heading home when I decided to head back into the house. However, out of nowhere, a figure in black hit me hard on the back of my head! What a miscreant he was for attacking a poor defenseless woman! With this attack, I fell to the ground with my “…face… turned towards the fire” (119). The scorching flame lit the crime scene in an excellent glow. There had been no evidence of the mysterious man except for one thing. Lying

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