“I raise my head and see a red illuminated EXIT sign and as my eyes adjust I see tigers, cavemen with long spears, cavewomen wearing strategically modest skins, wolfish dogs. My heart is racing and for a liquor-addled moment I think Holy shit, I've gone all the way back to the Stone Age until I realize that EXIT signs tend to congregate in the twentieth century.”

“I lost the plot for a while then. And I lost the subplot, the script, the soundtrack, the intermission, my popcorn, the credits, and the exit sign.”

“I walked up to the window, raised my palm and pressed it against the pane. It left a bloodied handprint. Through the red shape—my red flag, my riot sign—I could see Neil staring at me.”

“I wish you’d find the exit out of my head.”

“It’s true, and I was really hideous as a preteen. Tall and gawky. I used to bump my head into everything. Still do sometimes. (Kat)You are my daughter. (Acheron)Sure I am, I can’t imagine you ever being uncoordinated. (Kat)Oh, I assure you I’ve nailed quite a few signs with my forehead. It’s a wonder ‘Exit’ isn’t permanently imprinted right between my eyes. (Acheron)”

“My eyes rolled so far back in my head that I could see myself think”