The preferred state was for me not to be fascinated. It was for me not to be thinking about the condom factory, wondering why they called it Trojan when the Trojan horse was a story about permeability, about how the Greeks swarmed out and foiled the Trojans, who had believed themselves to be protected—and in the moment that he pushed me onto my back I realized, with elation, that I could prefer that state, too, that I didn’t need to be thinking about those things.
