In the woods around my father's house, I helped gather clothes hangers. They were a valuable and rare commodity and we were all hurrying. The girl said not to worry, she'd be writing a book while in the hospital. I encouraged her, and acted happy to hear it, but I knew it would be crap.
The older woman, picking through the weeds and sticks, saw the article and read it. She asked what I had meant by "he was a terrible person but there was one thing I liked." She wanted to know the one thing. I told her I had enjoyed the way he lied to me. She said "Oh. One would think you'd have put it the other way round - 'though I suppose there were a few good things about him, he was a hateful liar.' I thought about it and said "Yes. You would think that."