The Wrong Answers

There was a good reason why people were so readily eager to hop over the fence of reality and onto the greener plains of denial. Rather than stumbling and then bumping your knee at said picket fence, it was so much easier to just bear a grin and deny, deny, deny.

No one likes bumping their knee. No one likes facing the truth.

I think Howard was denying. He bumped his knee and now he doesn't want to admit it. That has to be it, it has to be it. I mean, what else could explain as to why he looked so clueless right then and there?

"You just admitted fault," I said, trying to rein back squirming fingers from seizing the collar of his suit. "What's playing dumb going to do for you now?"

Howard started to stammer, croaking, tripping over his tongue, before finally becoming comprehensible again. "Y-you think I had a part in whatever the heck is happening out there? How… how could you ever think that in the first place?"