“He seemed to swallow the lie I fed him. I hope he’s not still hungry. If he is, I’ll give him the illusory dessert known as the American Dream.”

“I’ll make fun of him, but I’ll call him Him, because if I use his name I’ll immortalize him. After all, who is he? He’s merely my clone.”

“He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.”

“He’s dreaming, Cloquet thought, as he stood over him, revolver in hand. He’s dreaming, and I exist in reality. Cloquet hated reality but realized it was still the only place to get a good steak.”

“My heart sinks. I guess I should be glad he doesn’t care, but I’m not. He’s supposed to care. Mom cares so much, it’s smothering; but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to do this, to check out. And suddenly I need him to care. I need him to give me something so I know he’s still here, still Dad.”

“I look over the back of the chair to make sure he’s still asleep. He is. And he still has an erection. I can’t stay in the room with him like that all night. I’m liable to give myself finger cramps from playing with myself.”