After a long moment I closed the freezer door. I wanted to lie down and press my cheek against the cool linoleum. Instead I reached out with my little finger and flipped the Barbie's head. It went thack thack against the door. I flipped it again. Thack thack. Whee. I had a new hobby.

In its own way the kiss had been an act of murder.

I nodded with genuine synthetic sympathy.

Nothing else loves me, or ever will. Not even - especially - me. I know what I am and that is not a thing to love.

And as we should all know by now, anytime you predict failure you have an excellent chance of being right.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

It revealed a cruelty that really made one wonder if the universe was such a good idea after all.