Grifters Among Us by Mercedes Lawry Evenings of trickery. This man is not this man, but a puff of lies. He winnows and feigns in a welter of oily words. All promise just out of reach, a plane of contentment, drizzle of luxury, at least what is deserved. Thin man, fat man, hands like disappearing birds. He makes a point, makes it twice and backwards. Here, there, the gullible pull their heads up and breathe the rarified air. We might be somebody else, they think, and better. The con is on, the grifter clicking his yellow teeth, his wolf-smile every bit as glinty as a Jupiter moon. Gyroscope Review 36 !