What a terrible thing life can be.

It happens; incompetence is rewarded more often than not.

I did not like this feeling of having feelings.

And then more quiet, silence so deep it almost drowned out the roar of the night music that pounded away in my secret self.

I thought about the nice clothes that I always wore. Well of course I did. I took pride in being the best dressed monster in Dade County.

It's that moon again, slung so fat and low in the tropical night, calling out across a curdled sky and into the quivering ears of that dear old voice in the shadows, the Dark Passenger, nestled snug in the backseat of the Dodge K-car of Dexter's hypothetical soul. That rascal moon, that loudmouthed leering Lucifer, calling down across the empty sky to the dark hearts of the night monsters below, calling them away to their joyful playgrounds.

But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.