Now that I’m done writing this, I think I’ll make some t o a s t e d b r e a d.
This was originally going to contain a scene where the main character decides to splurge, tells his neighbor he bought something new, only for his neighbor to ask him if he had a midlife crisis and got a new car. “No,” he responds. “I got a razor.”
Other rejected chunks (not canon in the slightest):
Our kids are very perfect, very lively, very- real. I am certain of it. I am more certain of this than most things in this world, this world that lately has the same mass as a lump of styrofoam, pushed along by a heady wind.
“When they made you, they broke the mold.” “Yes, most likely.”
I rested my head in her twisted wire armatures.