HiveComb

It didnt feel like a big lie when he said it. Just something small to get through the moment.
Daniel did not wake up that day intending to lie.
It just… happened.

He paused for a second.
That little space in time where you're lost in thought, and conflicted.
Then he said it.
“Yeah, I sent it this morning.”
And the moment passed. Just like that.

His manager nodded without even a glance. “Alright, I’ll review it.”
And strangely enough Daniel felt relieved.

He was just so glad that he was not called upon to account.
At least for now.
His concept was plain and simple.

He was free to do the report later in the day and leave it anonymous and everything would proceed automatically. No one would notice. No harm done.

And the hilarious aspect of lies is this, they never always stay where you have placed them.
They follow you.

Daniel sat down and did his work that evening nothing was easy any more.
The same report, which at this time should have been prepared in a couple of hours, was the more tedious. Every sentence looked wrong. Every idea felt rushed.

Not because the work changed
but cause there was a pressure behind.

He was late in bed trying to adjust everything but it still was not right.
“Tomorrow,” finally he told himself. “I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

Next day he was told something, something of which he had not expected.
The manager has not received your report, Daniel, Sarah told him.

That small sentence again.
Another pause.
Another chance to begin everything afresh.
It was even harder now to tell it than it had been the first time.

“Oh… I think I put it on the wrong mail, replied Daniel. “I’ll resend it now.”
The lie grew bigger.
Not bigger — deeper too.
It is at this point that it ceased to be about the report.

Now it was a matter of keeping up the image of himself, which he had created.
Eventually, he completed the report and sent to his manager before close of work.
But the relief was not as hard as he'd expected. It was weaker. It felt temporal.

The fact that his mind had changed now to something new.
What, is he going to check the time?
What about the situation where something does not match?
That’s when it hit him.

The lie had given birth to another type of stress a stress that never existed previously.
In another couple of days everything struck him.
His boss summoned him to the office and stated, well done on the report. “But something doesn’t add up.”

Daniel already knew.
“I checked the system. It shows that the file was created on the date on which you resent it.
Absolute Silence filled the air.

There was no anger. No shouting. Just a calm statement.
And somehow, that felt worse.

Daniel was there cogitating how little a thing something had brought him there.
Again, he had a choice.
Push the lie further.
Or stop.

This time, he stopped.
I had not sent it out before, he said to himself. I just did not want to admit that I didnt complete my work.

His manager looked at him a while and sighed.
Not the time, he said, that is bothering me. It is that now I can no longer believe you, as I did.

That was a longer sentence than any penalty can be.
Nothing dramatic thereafter ensued.
No public embarrassment. No serious consequences.
But something shifted.
Fewer responsibilities. Less trust. More distance.

That kind of change which you cannot realize immediately- but you feel it, in the long run.
He knew something plain:
The majority of the lies are not initiated as great things.
They start as small means of escapes.
Ways to avoid discomfort.
But once go out, you do not run out of the trouble.
you pass on even more than the truth ought to pass on.
Because in any case it was not really about the report.
It was about trust.

And how we can so easily lose it... on something that doesn't seem to be that important.