"So you're a writer?" I heard him ask me when my two readers left. However, I chose not to respond to him and pretended that I did not heard what he had said because I don't want to talk to him. He is not significant, and he doesn't seem to have any interesting topics to discuss. So I won’t waste my saliva and time on him. Whether or not he continues to speak, I won't care—as long as I can claim not to have heard him. I will ignore him until I can go home.
I was about to leave with he suddenly speak. "Do you know that writers are liars?" There he caught my attention, so I looked at him badly while he was just smiling at me. Doesn't really give a damn about what he says or how I feel. As if he just wanted to mess. "All writers are liars and swindlers." He repeats what he said and obviously wants to annoy me because he has a big smile now.
I just stare at him. Hoping that he will stop talking if I will ignore him. But no, he keep talking and wants to annoy me. He tried to catch my attention.
"Writers write to deceive readers. They lie to readers buy using pens."
I couldn't stand it, so I straightened up and faced him. If only the look was deadly, he would have fallen earlier. The cold did not help, he made my head hot because of what he said. I'm going to have high blood pressure because of him. I feel all my blood boiling. Who he is to tell me that I am a liar and deceiver? He did not know me, and my works. He have no writes to insult me.
"Excuse me, Mr., but you have no idea what the writers of these stories are fighting for. You have no idea what they have gone through just to be able to write, so please hold off on labeling them dishonest and liars because you don't agree with their field of expertise or perhaps something they wrote," I said angrily. I want to hit him until he passes out with the items I was carrying. I want to kick him and punch his face.
"What I said is true. Don't feel offended because I am stating the fact."
"I am offended, not because of what your so called fact---but because what you said is not true."
"Really?"
"Of course."
"I referred to them as liars because I believed that what you said was false. And no matter what you say, I will think the same thing about all the writers and the stories they write, and that won't change because you're in it. I will say it again—writers are liars and deceivers because they write only nonsense and lies. They only included false information in their writing.
It was as if he had directly told me that I was a cheater and liar.
My head got even hotter with this asshole. He had the courage to call me a liar and a deceiver when he did not know me. Does he know how hard it is to write a story to make people happy? He was an ardent bully, and that was all he knew how to do. I don't know him, and I have no interest in him. I don't even want to talk to him. And now he will tell me that I am a liar and a deceiver?
"Mister, just so you know, I don't know you and you don't know me either, so don't accuse me of lying just because I am a writer," I said. Even though I was on the verge of losing my cool, I tried to restrain myself. "Perhaps you don't have enough love, which explains why you dislike love-filled stories. Because no one loves you, you also detest love stories.
“Hmph! Could you possibly believe I know you? I am silent because of what he said. And I'm not upset or even angry with the stories; I'm upset with the people who create them. Those who were behind the fabrication of the false narratives.
"I don't care, because you just judged me for being a writer like you do to me now."
“Nope! I really know you. Since you and all other writers share the same characteristics. I raised an eyebrow at him because I was already frowning at him. You lie and deceive, but you also avoid facing the truth because you are afraid of it. In other words, you are cowards who cover up in the letters you write.
I remained silent after his final statement. I don’t know why, but my heart suddenly pounded because of what he said. He tossed the tarpaulin to the side, shook his clothes, and then walked away as the rain started to let up a little. But before he could go any farther, he turned to me first.
"You can't answer, why because it's true?" he asked while smiling.
I responded to him and raised an eyebrow at him, saying, "There is nothing true in what you said, even one of what you said is not in my habit and there is not even one true in all that you said."
"You said so!" Having finished speaking, he started to leave but abruptly turned around and faced me.
"Don't take what I said too seriously; you also judged me when you saw me holding your sister's hand, but I didn't take it seriously or feel hurt. At this point, we are being fair and passing judgment on each other. I just apologized for making your judgment, and I don't mean to bruise your ego. Unless what I said is true," he said as he walked away.
Fuck you! You don't know how much effect your words have on me. You may not be aware of the portion of what you said that is accurate, and I have the impression that everything you said at this time applies only to me and not to all other writers.