from The Lunatics

That was the problem with knowing everything. I knew the answer to the riddle before the question was even formed. I knew the fate of a doomed love affair before the growling children were even thought of or conceived. I knew from the second Andy was across the room with his lunatic eyes that when the mother in law twice over, seven years from now, opened the autobiography in a crowded library looking for a trace of her sons, her jaw would drop at the thought of both her boys swimming after the same child who wanted and needed nothing but their sexual attention. Straight up, like whiskey. The poor mother who was against me from the beginning.