Member-only story
The Liar
Novel by Francis Ivanovich
Parte 1:
April 1st
When I opened my eyes, I thought it was a nightmare. However, everything I felt was real. I got up and went to the bathroom, leaning on the cold tiles, staring at the toilet, where my face covered the small reflective bed. In that exact moment, under the impulse of my kidneys and bladder, seeing my face disappear beneath the urine, the idea that has kept me alive until this day appeared in my spirit. I returned to the bedroom, without haste, and asked myself if the thought was absurd and concluded that this world is absurd. I wanted to sleep, however, the idea sucked away my dreams, making my heart jump like sheep and my body roll on the double bed. Suddenly, a singer sent everything to hell on the clock radio, and with a slap on the “off” button I silenced the singer, noting that it was already six o’clock in the morning on the first of April, April Fools’ Day.
It was time to get up and go to the office. I sat on the bed, like a Buddha, with hope in the newborn idea, and remembered the wall calendar kept on the living room shelf. Upon opening it, poorly printed autumn flowers jumped out: azaleas and begonias, gardenias and bougainvilleas. I studied the calendar, walking to the living room window, opening it slowly, and saw, without surprise, the neighborhood filled with sameness: nine houses, side by…
