Writing & Writing About Writing
“So, what do you think of Larry?”
As he said this, my boss handed me a sparkly blue stone. I held it in my hand, palm up so we both could see the stone. I could feel the vibration. Okay then, he wanted the truth.
“He’s a horrible human being.” I said.
Boss: We are all God’s children, but yes.
Me: He’s rude. He makes sexist jokes.
Me: He eats other people’s lunch from the refrigerator.
I paused, “I am having trouble appreciating his role in the office.” The stone in my hand dimmed. I tried again. “How the hell does he keep his job?”
Boss: When you need Larry, you will be very, very glad he’s there.
Questions. So many questions. What agency are they in? What does Larry do? What sort of Armageddon-level crisis would he been needed for? For that matter, why is this conversation even taking place?
Truth stone. Cheap ones are easy to come by. They tell whether the words spoken are true or not. However, one can lie outrageously while still technically telling the truth: though omission, thorough selective word choice, and so on. The expensive truth stones judge the speaker’s intention. You can tell the high-end ones by the fainting humming &/or vibration when you hold them.
The conversation about Larry came to me while I was reading an urban fantasy novel with an FBI-style department of weirdness. No idea where the truth stone came from.