I remember my first lie clearer then my first memory. A report card reflecting a student falling behind. A son falling short. I forged mother’s signature. Fearing her seeing what I’ve become. At an early age I knew who I was. Not who she thought. Not who they taught. “Be good.”, she’d say smiling. I’d smile back. I was a good liar.

I remember my first lie clearer then my first memory. A report card reflecting a student falling behind. A son falling short. I forged mother’s signature. Fearing her seeing what I’ve become. At an early age I knew who I was. Not who she thought. Not who they taught. “Be good.”, she’d say smiling. I’d smile back. I was a good liar.