Stay Awake

by Dan Chaon

They didn’t really argue about things, the way he imagined other couples did—though the ghosts of their disagreements would waft underneath their conversations, curling like the fingerlets of incense smoke that Amber would sometimes burn.

What does a baby have that we want from it?

You can’t help but think that life will be tough on him, unfairly tough, and that makes you sad. He’s got a better heart than most people.

People like Jerry, or even Dooley, for that matter, seem to lose IQ points every time they turn their faithful eyes toward you. You feel ashamed for them.

He wants to know if something beautiful or tragic has happened, because he believes in beauty and tragedy.

I am not really sure how I am supposed to behave in this situation. I can’t help but think that I should be sitting at Rain’s bedside, pressing her damp hand between my palms. I should be arguing vehemently with doctors, demanding results, I should be surrounded by people who are bleeding and screaming and shocking one another with defibrillators. I sit there for a while longer, imagining this romantic pandemonium, and then finally I go to stand in line at the reception booth again.

He had built his own future brick by brick around himself but there were no doors or windows,