That Uncertain Feeling

by Kingsley Amis

If my character was, as it appeared to be, not so much bad or weak as unworkable, farcically unfitted for its task, like an asbestos fire-lighter, then that was more than merely bad luck on Jean. I wished I could discover, like a galactic-federation physicist in a science-fiction story, some chink or warp in time that would age Jean and me five years in five minutes. The alternative, presumably, was to start liking being the kind of man I evidently was.