"I love you, honey!" she called as she left the dingy apartment they shared.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sipping his coffee, until it hit him. "Why did I just think she was lying?"

He pondered this for a moment, before shrugging it off and getting ready for work.

"Heya, George! How're you doing this fine morning?" his friend asked, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

liar...

"Fine, Henry. And you?" George replied, trying to shake off the odd feeling something was wrong.

"Same old same old." -liar- "The wife's complaining about something or other around the house." -liar-

'This is really unsettling,' thought George, curious. 'Why do I feel like Henry's lying to me all of a sudden?'

Before he had a chance to explore this feeling, he found himself in front of his office building.

"Adeu, my friend!" called Henry from down the block.