Right from his early childhood, he has been appreciated for his capabalities to lie. All his lies were so intense that even when you'd know he's lying, you'd persuade yourself that the entire world has been a lie. Nobody really cared for the truth anymore. "Truth is relative," they'd say "but the liar is universal."

He became a professional liar when he grew up. He lied with such mastery of the art that all his lies seemed interconnected. Juxtaposed. Existing as a parallel realm with the reality. Elusive than the real. The liberation.

The heavens found real competition in him: 'The Great Lie' wasn't meant to have an alternative.

Labels: alternative, fiction, flash fiction, heaven, liar, lie, life, short story, story, surreal, surrealism, truth