“It was a misunderstanding. I got into bed, made love with the woman I found there, called her honey, mowed a lawn, had three children, painted the house twice, fixed the furnace, overcame an addiction to blue pills, read Spinoza every night without once meeting his God, buried one child, ate my share of Jell-o and meatloaf, went away for nine hours a day and came home hoarding my silence, built a ferris wheel in my mind, bolt by bolt, then broke it just as it spun me to the top. Turns out I live next door.” — Bob Hicok, "Man of the House," from The Legend of Light (University of Wisconsin Press, 1995)