Indirection

The best way to keep a secret is to publish it in a quite unbelievable form—and insist that it is the truth.
Illustrated by Freas
Elwar Forell leaned back in his chair, looking about the small dining salon. The usual couples were there, he noticed. Of course, the faces were different from those of last evening, but the poses were similar. And the people were there for the same reasons. They were enjoying the food and drinks, just as many others had enjoyed them before. But like all those others, their greater enjoyment was in the company of one another. Forell glanced at the vacant chair across the table from him and sighed.
It would be nice, he thought, if— But any arrangement involving a permanent companion would be hardly practical under his circumstances. After all, prudence dictated limits.
He picked up his cup and drained it, then leaned back and beckoned the waiter over.
The reckoning, please, he ordered.
He looked again at the letter on the table before him, then folded it and put it in his pocket. It was well, he thought. His latest book of fairy tales and fantasy had enjoyed good acceptance. And the check in the letter had been of satisfactory size. He smiled to himself. There were compensations in this job of his. It seemed to be profitable to have a purpose other than the obvious and usual one.
He paid his bill and left the restaurant, to walk slowly along the street, enjoying the mild, spring air.
As he passed a sidewalk café, a man beckoned from one of the tables.
Oh, Forell, he called. I was hoping I'd see you this evening. He held up a book.
Just finished your 'Tales of the Sorcerers,' he added. Some of those yarns of yours seem almost real.
Elwar Forell nodded. They should, he thought. Factual material, however disguised, often shines through its fictional background. And he had an inexhaustible source of material, drawn from many sources. He twisted his face into a gratified smile.