The Lips Are A Loom

Flash Fiction

Oct 01, 2024

There was no computational memory of the decimation of the first three waves of humanity save for the three pillars that extended well past any building here. They extended from the ground like three chin hairs on a premenopausal woman.

In this iteration of humanity, there was only truth, and truth was as much a weapon as it was a savior. We had developed the skill of truth weaving. At three, we learned to weave. We watch our elders move lips like looms keeping the facts perfectly aligned to produce a tapestry.

In this tapestry, your lover is the villain. Truth-weapon. I watched the way they slipped poison into Relo’s cup. I watched their face silent, frozen river cold, and pleased watching him foam at the mouth and keel over. In the FACT (Factuality Actuality Confirmation Testing) satellite office I string together a blanket of information. The leadmod is a short and ugly man but; I do not include that truth-weapon in my blanket. I let his sweaty fucking fingers blot down the statement into the Permasys. There it’ll be cross-examined, re-examined, and confirmed based on the endless input from the Omnieyes around this human cluster of 20,733.

It’s not that I hate you. Probable lie—verification pending. It’s just that watching your tender neck kissed by another is enough to make me want to be responsible for the fourth pillar going up. It’s just that you promised me you were mine and you know how I get about unfacts. It’s just that I had planned, and hoped, and wrapped myself up in the unverified (true) future of us. It’s that, even with nothing but skin between us, swapping saliva, trading trade secrets I could not catch it–the possibility it was all untrue. I try not to think of their tongue where mine used to be. I only hope the thought is probable lie.

On my way back to my Burrow I line up the proofs in my mind. Each fact has a subfact, has a subfact, has a potential outcome. I calculate the outcomes of all the truths (weapon, lies, saviors) I have woven. I pull on various threads until it clicks for me and I can see here the loose thread. The dissolution of your new love eminent.

All the best weavers know you work from the bottom up when weaving. So, I have been working backward from a timeline where your lover is done and we are well… we again. It’ll be you and me. Everything you promised will be true again because there will only be us, time, and truth.

Buy Me A Cookie

I sort through the Datastorage in the Omnieye system hungry for footage of your new lover disgraced, publicly shamed, stamped a vicious murderer, and even worse a liar for denying having anything to do with the whole ordeal. I find it and I feel relief flush over my body in cooling waves. I am floating. I watch them branded on their cheek. I get warm with pleasure. Truth.

The Omnieye vision turns and you are in sight. The look of shame and disbelief on your face almost wipes away any glee that had been blossoming in me at your fake love’s demise. Almost. On any other day, for any other reason, I would want to annihilate anyone who brought you this level of distress but this distress has good cause. I wet my lips and think of the scent of your body after a night’s rest. I exit the Omnieye System’s Datastorage. It is time to make plans for us two.

It had been weeks and all I had managed to string together was two bump-ins at one of our favorite Music Subclusters, one brief truth exchange on the latest Omnieye Drama, and one awkward hug. The stagnancy was driving me mad. Do you not see the truth in front of you? I had even considered if I had made the whole thing between us up. I think long and hard computing the subfacts and possible outcomes. What is the best version of the truth to get you into my arms again?

Do you know that the only difference between a truth and an untruth is perspective and timing? The only difference between orchestrating a murder and being convicted of murder is a little planning and some truth-proofing. The next iteration of our love will be final.

“I love you,” you’ll whisper. I will do everything in my power to believe it is true. You might do everything in your power to weave a different truth after the fact.

I love you. Truth-weapon. Truth-fact. I whisper it to myself three times. Pillars to the past, the present, and the future.

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I originally had an essay planned but I ran out of time to finish my research. It’ll be dropping next week instead. You might want to revisit this piece in preparation.

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