Inherent Vice

by Thomas Pynchon

Fritz chuckled at length. “Yeah, PIs should really stay away from drugs, all ’em alternate universes just make the job that much more complicated.”

It’s so nice to be made to feel invisible that way sometimes . . .”

What goes around may come around, but it never ends up exactly the same place, you ever notice? Like a record on a turntable, all it takes is one groove’s difference and the universe can be on into a whole ’nother song.”

It was as if whatever had happened had reached some kind of limit. It was like finding the gateway to the past unguarded, unforbidden because it didn’t have to be. Built into the act of return finally was this glittering mosaic of doubt. Something like what Sauncho’s colleagues in marine insurance liked to call inherent vice.